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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27565564">Never text your ex</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Graysongirl/pseuds/Graysongirl'>Graysongirl</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abusive Valentino (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor is Bad at Feelings (Hazbin Hotel), Angel Dust-Typical Sexual Content (Hazbin Hotel), Angst, Asexual Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Come on I wrote it so you know it's going to be a hurt fest, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Radiodust, Eventual Smut, Husk is So Done (Hazbin Hotel), Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Poor Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Poor Life Choices, Protective Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Valdust, Valentino Being a Jerk (Hazbin Hotel), Vox Being a Jerk (Hazbin Hotel), Vox is a Brat (Hazbin Hotel), Whump, radiodust - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 20:00:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>38,239</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27565564</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Graysongirl/pseuds/Graysongirl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Valentino and Vox have broken up for the millionth time this week, only this time it feels like it's for real and the moth pimp opens up to his ex and employee, Angel Dust. Sharing feelings and lots of tequila the two go back to Valentino's apartment to reconnect. One thing is for certain, though, you should never text your ex. In the aftermath of a stupid one night stand Angel starts to connect with Alastor, enamoured by the deer's apparent awkwardness when it comes to flirting and finding him a refreshing change to the people he has to deal with at work. </p><p>A slow burn Radiodust fic, with my usual smattering of angst laden Valdust.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alastor/Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Angel Dust/Valentino (Hazbin Hotel), Valentino/Vox (Hazbin Hotel)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>202</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>318</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Rd Favs</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Break ups and make ups</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I'm back! I promised you radiodust, so here we go. Don't be fooled by the Val/Angel heavy chapter. I promise everyone's favourite deer demon will be featuring soon.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Hell 666 club was heaving with bodies and Valentino was on the prowl. He wound his way through the mass of sweat soaked demons, writhing like animals on the dance floor as booze and coke flowed freely between parties. Everyone wanted a piece of him, to be seen with him or to just have a fleeting few seconds to touch him then go home and jack off over the memory of it. It was fan-fucking-tastic and he couldn’t be happier. </p><p>He didn’t need Vox and his stupid relationship. Nope. Not one fucking bit. </p><p>He felt like a million dollars, dolled up in brand new clothes with fuck-me boots that went up to his thighs and had cost the type of money that half the demons in this joint could only fantasise about having at their disposal. He was so god damn satisfied right now, everything was absolutely perfect. He shouted over for another tray of drinks from the bar and grinned as a svelte rabbit demon sashayed over, balancing the tray on one paw and bending down in the perfect playboy dip as she set the drinks down on the nearest table. </p><p>“Shots on me, boys!” Val called out, passing the drinks around and lapping up the attention. Lights flashed all around him, the music pumping and blaring out all over the club as he danced and drank and tried to forget everything that had happened that day. </p><p> </p><p>o0o</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“You don’t get it, Val! You can’t just treat me the way you do and expect me to come crawling back to you every single time!” Vox snapped, slamming his fist down on the table and standing up, sparks fizzing at the corners of his screen where several jagged cracks jutted towards one eye. As he glared that eye flickered in and out of focus, changing colour with sharp bursts of static every time he spoke. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Voxxy, baby, I treat you as good as you deserve,” Val sneered, taking a drag on a freshly lit cigarette and leaning back in his chair. They’d been sharing a perfectly nice dinner together when Vox had brought up how much Val had been working recently so, naturally, Val had needed to shut him up so they could continue to have their nice dinner. “You know you just gotta know when to shut that dumb mouth of yours.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I am an overlord!” Vox shouted, shoving his chair out of the way and storming towards the door. “And until you start treating me with some respect this… whatever the fuck this thing we have is, isn’t happening.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Baby, honey, sweetheart, calm down,” Val sighed. He’d heard these rants before. Vox was never serious, he never left for long if he even left at all. His little television set was wrapped around his finger and they both knew it. Vox, the pitiful little geek that he was, was nothing without him. No one would have paid any attention to a nerdy little nobody like him if it hadn’t been for Val showing him how to use his particular brand of technological demon powers in the correct way. “I’ll fix your dumb screen. Just stop acting like such a drama queen and sit down.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I mean it! Stop treating everyone around you like disposable fucking toys and maybe you won’t die alone like the pathetic shit head that you are.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You ungrateful little bitch!” Now Val was up as well, fists clenched and seething with rage. “Go then! See if I care! There’s a hundred bitches just like you in this town that would kill to be on my arm. Go back to your cheap ass little basement and play with your circuits!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I will!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Good! See if I care. Don’t let the door hit your flat ass on the way out!” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>o0o</p><p> </p><p>That had been two days ago and Vox still hadn’t come back to him. No calls, no texts, not even a like on Voxtagram when he’d posted thirst pics hoping to get his attention. He’d spent good money getting his antenna done, damn it, and for what? For that greasy little nerd to just straight up ignore him when he posted sexy photos to show him what he was missing? Vox had some nerve alright. That’s why he was so glad to be rid of him. Now he was free to fuck whoever he wanted and had nobody to answer to. Relationships were so draining, having to check on your boyfriend’s <em>feelings</em> all the time instead of just straight up screwing whoever you wanted. Vox had never said no to him, obviously, but he could feel the resentment sometimes when he came home from a shoot, talking about the after party and drowning in all those sweet demons on set. It was just so controlling sometimes, didn’t Vox realise he was a hot commodity with needs? Hello, he was the Overlord of Lust. </p><p>Speaking of which… he caught sight of a very familiar pink and white spider demon in amongst all the sin on the dance floor. A wide smile spread across his face, a hunger rising inside him as he watched Angel Dust enticing all those around him in a way that rivalled even him. </p><p>“Hey, Angie…” he purred, sliding over and placing his hands on his hips, feeling the demon twerking against him in time to the music and pressing up against him before he even realised who he was pressed up against. He caught the look of surprise on Angel’s face as he placed his voice and grinned. Angel Dust was certainly his type of demon, happy to go along with anything and anybody. Plus Vox hated his guts so he was the perfect rebound right now. </p><p>“Oh, hey Daddy, what’s shakin’?” Angel put all his arms around him and started to jive against him, clearly picking up on the fact he wanted attention right now. Being the good little employee he was, he was eager enough to give him it and that suited Val just fine. </p><p>“Mm, looks like it’s you, baby,” Val murmured appreciatively as Angel thrust his hips against him once more, pressing his crotch suggestively against him and grinding down. “Let’s say we blow this popsicle stand, hm?”</p><p>A flicker of discomfort clouded Angel’s eyes for the briefest of seconds. “Don’t ya wanna stay down here, Val?” He tried, swaying his hips to the music. “I’m havin’ so much fun dancin’ with cha.” </p><p>“Well I wanna do a different kind of dancin’,” Val told him, tightening his grip on him and steering him away from the crowded dance floor. “Come on.” </p><p>“Yes, Daddy.” </p><p> </p><p>o0o</p><p> </p><p>Angel’s night had been going just swell right up until that point. He had a new skirt and some killer heels to break in on the dance floor plus some good old fashioned rocket fuel running through his system giving him buckets of energy to dance the night away. It had been fun too, kicking back after a long week of shooting in the studio. Val’s place always had the best music and the best drinks, so it was a no brainer when it came to choosing a place to party. Even when he wasn’t working he knew he could find a good time here, and if one thing led to another with a cute guy that he could drag up to his dressing room then that was even better. </p><p>He knew he probably should have counted on Val finding him, the guy seemed to have a homing beacon when it came to sniffing him out in the club and he knew he couldn’t just say no when the moth got an idea into his head. His heels clacked on the floor as he dutifully followed his boss through the club and up the stairs that led to Val’s office at the club. It was a cushy joint, just like his office at Porn Studios, with a huge desk dominating the room and a big, plush sofa for entertaining clients in the more intimate way. </p><p>Val didn’t waste any time pushing him down onto the sofa, claws digging into his hips as he dragged his skirt up his hips to expose more skin. Angel gasped as he started to bite along his neck, peppering kisses along his fur before nipping with those sharp teeth. </p><p>“Yeah, that’s it, baby, you tell Daddy how much you like that.” </p><p>“Mmm, it feels so good,” Angel responded on command, arching against him and begging him for more. If he did it right Val would probably just be satisfied with a bit of fooling around and then he could go back to the hotel. “Play with your little toy.” </p><p>He wasn’t sure if it was something he said, or that he wasn’t acting right because Val suddenly pulled away from him, releasing his weight from Angel and staring down at him. </p><p>“What did you say?” He asked. His tone was unreadable, Angel didn’t think he’d ever heard him sound so thrown off before. The usually confident overlord sounded... hurt? </p><p>“I dunno, boss,” Angel said weakly, tensing up ready for Val to hit him or go back to what it was he had been doing. “I said play with me or somethin’. Does it matter?” </p><p>“No, it’s just-“ Val stopped short and rubbed his face, letting out a small growl of frustration as he eased himself off of Angel and sat back heavily on the sofa, arms drooping beside him. “Fuck’s sake…” </p><p>“Uh, are you ok?” Angel tentatively shuffled back from his laying down position to rest against one of the cushions, drawing his legs up protectively now that he was no longer pressed underneath his pimp. He’d had clients stop half way before when they got cold feet or suddenly lost it, but that was certainly never something that had happened to him with Val. The overlord could usually go for multiple rounds, if anything. Stopping before they’d even gotten started was out of character to say the least. </p><p>“I’m fine!” Val snapped, sounding a little bit like his usual self for a moment or two before slumping back once more and picking at a bit of fluff on his coat. “Vox… left… and I don’t know what to do.” </p><p>“Oh.” That certainly wasn’t what Angel had expected him to say. Vox and Val broke up every other month, it was hardly anything new. He’d heard around the studio that they’d had a fight again, but Val had looked happier than ever. The moth pimp had even been doing shoots of his own and showing off a whole new wardrobe of clothes. It was a stark contrast to the moping mother demon sitting next to him now. “D’ya need to, uh, talk about it?”</p><p>“No,” Val snapped, standing up and making his way over to the desk, rooting around in the bottom drawer until he found what he was looking for. He always had stuff in his office and tonight was no exception. He pulled out a bottle of tequila and a few baggies, sloppily pouring a shot into a glass from a stack on a side table and shooting it back with no finesse. “It’s just- fuck, how do you deal with these feelings? You get around everywhere, you must know.” </p><p>Angel raised an eyebrow at the backhanded compliment, cracking his knuckles to ease some tension that was slowly mounting in his body. “I dunno, I just deal with it,” he said, ticking each item off on his fingers as he began to list them. “I get drunk; I shoot up; I listen to their crappy radio shows then jerk off.” </p><p>“What?” </p><p>“I said, I go dancing to crappy tunes then jerk off,” Angel repeated innocently. </p><p>“…right,” Val frowned and poured himself another shot, firing this one back and pouring out two more, gesturing for Angel to come and get one. Ever happy to use alcohol as an escape, Angel gladly accepted the shot glass and clinked it against Val’s. </p><p>“To dumb ex boyfriends,” he toasted. </p><p>“To dumb ex boyfriends,” Val echoed, watching Angel take the shot and eyeing him up and down hungrily. “Say, dancing to crappy music sounds just the ticket…” </p><p> </p><p>o0o</p><p> </p><p> “Mmm, that’s it, baby, right there!” </p><p>“Are we there yet? I don’t think I can wait much longer.” </p><p>Angel pulled away from Val, panting. His eyes were wide and slightly glazed over, unfocused as he pressed against Val on the backseat of his limo. They’d gone to another one of Val’s clubs after snorting the lines in Val’s office before polishing off the rest of the bottle of tequila. Somewhere between the third and forth club on their booze crawl they’d found a karaoke bar and, after an incredibly drunken duet from Frozen, Val had called for his car and they’d collapsed into the backseat. Angel had discarded his shirt long ago and was straddling the moth pimp on the seat, trying to ease him out of his coat so he could get to more of his skin. </p><p>“Yeah, not long now, baby,” Val purred, pulling him back down for a kiss and not letting up until the car came to a halt outside his apartment building. They piled out of the car, Angel clinging to Val with all four arms around him and his legs firmly locked around his hips, and staggered into the elevator. Val blindly punched the button for the penthouse and bundled Angel into the apartment as soon as the doors opened, making a beeline for the bedroom. </p><p>“God, I missed this,” Angel gasped, falling back on the bed and dragging Val with him. Back at the hotel he’d had to be so <em>good</em>. The only action he was getting was at the studio, bringing back folks for a good old one night stand was completely off the table thanks to his new found path of redemption. He helped Val shrug out of his coat properly, running his hands over his bare shoulders then down the front of the tight black corset he was wearing that barely covered his nipples. He dived down to plant a kiss on one, daringly sucking for a moment or two when he remembered how much that had gotten his boss going in the past, back when they’d…</p><p>“Val?” He asked, pulling away slightly and fighting through the foggy haze from the coke and alcohol. “What is this?” </p><p>“What do you mean, what is this?” Val asked, looking down at him. </p><p>“Is this just, ya know, like it is at the studio?” Angel didn’t know why he was asking this, he’d had sex with Valentino countless times in the last 70 years and never once asked what it meant. For some reason now, however, with booze and drugs giving him confidence amidst a strange feeling of hope he wanted to know what the score was. He let his hands rest on Val’s hips, stroking little circles with his fingers and toying with the edges of the corset, itching to slide his hands further down but scared of what the rules were. </p><p>“Angel Dust, Anthony, no, of course not,” Val assured him, tenderly leaning down to kiss him on the lips, slow and lingering as he stroked through his hair, gently moving down to rest on the back of his neck and finally to his shoulders where he began to kneed and rub. “You’re so special to me, you know you always have been.” </p><p>Angel gasped softly, his eyes fluttering closed at the gentle touch to his body, smiling stupidly when Val used his real name, the name that no one else in all of Hell ever used. It sounded so nice coming out of his mouth, rolling around his lips like it was the most precious word in the whole of the underworld. He looked up at Val and chuckled awkwardly. “Geez, Boss, ya gonna make me blush talkin’ all sweet to me like that.” </p><p>“You deserve it,” Val told him, carefully pushing him back so that Angel was laying back on the plush pillows of the king size bed. The red satin sheets pooled around him, framing his white and pink fur like some kind of Valentine ’s Day work of art. Angel purred under his touch, practically melting against him as he descended down on him. </p><p>“I love you, Anthony.” </p><p>“I… I love you too, Val.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I mean, what could possibly go wrong here? Drunkenly sleeping with your ex is a brilliant idea. Why did I say this was Radiodust? Look at what a functioning couple Val and Angel are. </p><p>As always, please leave kudos and reviews, your words give me encouragement and life!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Hell in high heels</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Angel wakes up the morning after the night before to a nasty surprise that reminds him that falling into bed with your ex is never a good idea.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The radiodust begins in this chapter! Thanks to everyone who reviewed this so far and left kudos, it really means a lot. There's a small bit of smut at the start of this chapter, if that's not your bag then skip to the first o0o marker. It's nothing explicit, though.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I love you, Anthony.” </p>
<p>“I… I love you too, Val.” </p>
<p>Four little words and he’d been his, helpless in his arms as his body greedily connected with his. His skirt fell to the floor, taken off God only knows when as Val planted kisses along every inch of his fur, working across his stomach, his hips and down his thighs until he reached the strap on his stiletto heels. </p>
<p>“Can I?” Val peeped up at him as his tongue danced across the skin of his ankle, teeth grazing across the strap. </p>
<p>“If ya wanna,” Angel replied shakily, gripping the sheets in spite of himself and feeling like a newly fallen demon again, all nerves and uncertainty as he shyly lifted his foot up for Val to take off his shoes, tossing them onto the floor with the rest of their clothes. The moth placed a delicate kiss to the fluff on his feet before coming back up to where he was more welcome, kissing the spider to make him relax once more. Content that Val wasn’t going to take it any further down by his feet, Angel released the breath he was holding, glad of the moth’s lips on his as he drank his fill, his tongue finding his way into his mouth to deepen the kiss and signal his urgency. </p>
<p>His legs parted of their own accord as he eagerly guided Val towards him, lube somehow finding its way from the bedside drawers into Val’s hand as they sank back into a rhythm from 70 years ago that neither of them had forgotten. Feeling Val inside him again, so loving and tender like it always should have been, made Angel gasp out loud, moaning the demon’s name as he thrust inside him. It was all so different from the hard, loveless fucking they often got into at the studio where Val would remind him of his position and assert his dominance in the only language they both understood. </p>
<p>But this, this was just something else. Even though death had given them both bodies that were drastically different in size and shape they both found their pace, just like they always had done. Angel knew how to put his hips to accept the larger demon without pain, and Val knew exactly how to position himself to make the smaller demon moan in pleasure. They finally came, crying out in unison and clinging to each other like their life depended on it, falling into an exhausted heap when he deed was done, panting and letting their sweat soaked bodies rest together. </p>
<p>“Gee, that was…” Angel panted, pulling away so he could roll onto the rest of the mattress and spread out his arms. “Yeah. That was what I needed.” </p>
<p>“Mm, me too,” Valentino turned to his side so he was facing Angel Dust, stroking the fur on his stomach with one hand and snickering as the overly sensitive spider purred in contentment. “Eager to go again?” </p>
<p>“Always, Hot stuff,” Angel grinned, propping himself up on his elbows. “Now we’re all warmed up, why not say we get down to the real fun?” </p>
<p>“Baby doll, you read my mind.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>o0o</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The next morning Angel rolled over in the bed and patted the empty space next to him, scowling as he felt the lack of body next to him. Cracking one eye open he pulled himself up to sitting and rubbed his eyes, flinching at the pounding headache that was starting to set in courtesy of his over indulgence last night. Going clean at the hotel had clearly lowered his tolerance for a good night out, he realised as he willed the room to stop spinning. Dipping a hand into the bedside drawers he found a tin of rolled cigarettes and took an experimental sniff of one, trying to gauge if it was just tobacco or something more specialist. Deciding that it was definitely something that would give him a decent hit he lit up with a lighter that was helpfully sitting in the drawer as well and took a drag. The relief of the PCP dipped joint sent a nice mellow wave over him, targeting the headache after a few drags and leaving him content to rest back on the pillows to wait for Val. </p>
<p>As he worked his way through the joint he reflected on the night before, wondering how something so reckless could turn out so right. Glancing up as he heard voices coming from the lounge he stubbed out the roll up in a nearby ash tray- only Val would have an ash tray conveniently in the bedroom, he mused with a small chuckle- and climbed out of the bed to piece together his clothes. He found his panties and skirt easily enough, slipping them on before searching for his shirt, remembering with a roll of his eyes that in his greedy eagerness to get down to it last night he’d thrown it on the floor of the car. No biggie, he shrugged to himself, he could pick it up later. He found Val’s coat on the floor and slipped it on for an extra layer, taking a moment to inhale the musky scent of the moth demon that still lingered on the fur collar. </p>
<p>“Hey, babe, you got friends over?” He called, making his way out of the bedroom and leaning enticingly in the door frame that led into the lounge. “Maybe they want to come and-“ he trailed off, met with the sight of Vox sitting on the couch with a video game controller, intent on shooting something on the large flat screen TV in front of him, Val lounging with one arm around him as he scrolled through his phone. “…play…” Angel trailed off uselessly. </p>
<p>“Morning, hot stuff,” Val greeted. “Or. Afternoon should I say. It’s after one. Sleep well?” </p>
<p>“Uh, yeah,” Angel stammered, hugging the coat around him and trying to piece back his confidence and puzzle out the scene in front of him. “What’s going on?” </p>
<p>“Boom! Head shot!” Vox cackled as a fountain of pixelated blood erupted over the screen accompanied by a rat-a-tat-tat of bullets raining into a scantily dressed woman. “Val, did you see?” </p>
<p>“Sure did, hun,” Val replied, not looking up from his phone and idly toying with the cables  at the back of Vox’s screen. The TV demon shrugged him away and inched forward on the sofa. </p>
<p>“Quit it,” he told him. “You’re gonna make me glitch.” The glass of his screen was shiny and new, a screen protector still in place on the replacement with fancy looking cables connecting it at the back. Angel had never really understood how Vox worked, and in all honesty didn’t really have much interest. “You still here?” He asked, glancing at Angel before his attention went straight back to the video game, more unlucky prostitutes receiving the same head blowing up treatment as their colleague. </p>
<p>“Nah, I’m just goin’,” Angel sighed, turning back into the bedroom to collect his shoes. As he sat down on the bed to put them on he shook his head, muttering under his breath about how stupid he’d been. Seventy years! Seventy years he’d been hanging around with that creep, he knew he should have known better. Whatever those lines in Val’s office were they sure had a lot to answer for when it came to influencing dumb decisions. With a sigh he buckled up his shoes and stood up, checking his make up in the mirror and running his fingers through his hair to neaten it up. Presentable enough, he decided. It wasn’t like anyone was going to see him in the car on the way back to the hotel. </p>
<p>“Hey, boss?” He asked, stepping back into the lounge and rubbing one arm. “Can you call the car around for me? I gotta get back to the hotel.”</p>
<p>“Sorry, Angie,” Val shrugged. “Takin’ Vox out later on so I need it. Get a taxi or something.” </p>
<p>“I aint got any cash on me, boss,” Angel admitted. “I spent up at that last bar. Could you lend me some?” </p>
<p>“Angel, please, stop crowding him,” Vox rolled his eyes. “You sound pathetic. If you’re so desperate for a ride just stand on the corner and pick up some John. Isn’t that how you usually get places? Or just walk, you aint that famous that you can’t put one foot in front of the other once in a while.” </p>
<p>“Yeah, it’s not far anyway,” Val agreed, tucking his phone away and looking Angel up and down. “Leave my coat, by the way, it’s cold out. I’m gonna need it later.” </p>
<p>“Can I at least get my shirt from your car?” </p>
<p>“God, stop being rude, Angel,” Val sighed with a roll of his eyes. “Can’t you see I have a guest? I can’t be running around after you. I’ll drop it off for you at the studio later, chill out.” </p>
<p>Angel bit back the retort that was threatening to pass his lips, instead just wordlessly taking off the plush red coat and walking over to hand it to Val. The moth took it and grinned, reaching up to give him a pat on the cheek. </p>
<p>“Good boy,” he purred, pinching him roughly. “I had fun last night, Angel Cakes.” </p>
<p>“Yeah, real fun,” Angel smiled weakly. “We should do it again sometime.” </p>
<p>“We should.” </p>
<p>“Now piss off,” Vox supplied helpfully. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>o0o</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Urgh! <em>Real fun, we should do it again sometime?!</em>” Angel snarled once he was out in the relative safety of the street outside the apartment block. “Real smooth, dipshit.” He balled his fists up angrily and struck out at a nearby trash can, sending it hurtling into the middle of the road and startling a pair of imps who happened to be unlucky enough to be walking past. </p>
<p>“Well, really!” One of them huffed, putting his arm around the other and steering her to safety. “Come on, Millie, this used to be a nice neighbourhood.” </p>
<p>“Keep walkin’, ya horny little midgets!” Angel snapped, wishing he had a cigarette or something to calm his nerves down. The joint back in the bedroom had barely scratched the surface and the headache coupled with anger at himself and Valentino was making him feel more than a little bit irritable. With another hiss of annoyance he set off walking down the street, muttering under his breath and glowering darkly at anyone who dared to make eye contact with him. Sure, he could stand on a corner like Vox suggested and earn money for a cab in two seconds flat, but that would involve actually taking advice from Vox and Angel didn’t feel quite low enough yet to take advice from his ex’s new squeeze. So, walking it was.</p>
<p>It hadn’t been very accurate of Valentino to suggest that it was only a short walk to the hotel. Angel knew that he was looking at least an hour walking to get there and that was before he factored in the fact he was nursing a hangover in eight inch heels. The further he walked the more he became acutely aware that the plastic straps on his shoes were really starting to cut into his skin, the fine layer of fur on his feet not doing much in the way of protection. These shoes were designed to be seen in, shown off and flashed around with maybe a tiny bit of dancing. They were absolutely not designed to be worn on hour long hikes through the city.</p>
<p>After about fifteen minutes of trying to walk in a way that didn’t aggravate the already forming blisters Angel admitted defeat and stopped, propping one hand on the nearest store front and kicking up one foot to try and unclasp his shoe with one hand. He placed his now bare foot on the ground and set about taking off the other, spinning at the sound of the bell on the door to the store jingling and someone brushing past him. </p>
<p>“Hey, jackass! Watch where ya going!” He snapped, jutting his hip out defiantly and dangling his discarded stilettos in one hand. “Your mama never teach you any manners?” </p>
<p>“My apologies, I did not expect anyone to be standing right outside the door. Quite the shock, haha.”</p>
<p>Angel Dust’s eyes widened at the musical voice coming from the demon in front of him and moved to get a better look at him. The last person he’d expected to see out here, so far from the hotel, was the radio demon. </p>
<p>“Al? What are you doin’ out here?” </p>
<p>“I could ask you the same thing, my dear fellow,” Alastor replied, one eyebrow raised quizzically as he took in Angel Dust’s state of dress, or lack thereof. “Are you working? You appear to have misplaced some of your clothes. Terribly careless of you.” </p>
<p>“I didn’t misplace nothin’,” Angel replied haughtily, drawing himself up to his full height and tossing his hair back. Always act like you’re exactly where you want to be, his older brother had always taught him. If you look like you’re embarrassed or uncomfortable people will sniff that out in a heartbeat and take advantage of it. “I just decided it was warm out.” </p>
<p>“You’re a stone’s throw from the Envy District,” Alastor pointed out. “Why, I’m amazed it isn’t snowing currently with that wind blowing across from it. Here, allow me.” Without warning he placed the wrapped package he was carrying into Angel’s arms. Free from his burden he waved his hands in the air, shadows conjuring from nowhere and leaping around Angel. He was about to protest, almost dropping his shoes and the parcel in the process until he looked down and saw he was now wearing a knee length red coat with black fur around the collar. </p>
<p>“Wow… uh, this is…” he stammered, feeling a little light headed from it all. </p>
<p>“You don’t like the colour?” Alastor asked innocently, snapping his fingers once more to turn the red into a vibrant pink. It was eye wateringly bright and matched the platforms on the shoes Angel was trying not to drop in all the surprise. “Thank you awfully for holding that for me. Those of us unfortunate enough to only possess two arms do struggle sometimes.” He took the package from Angel and smiled merrily, turning on his heel to walk away when Angel reached out to stop him, daringly taking his arm and forcing him to turn around. </p>
<p>“Hey, thanks,” Angel mumbled, staring at the floor. “This is real swell.” </p>
<p>“Think nothing of it,” Alastor dismissed. “I am certain Charlotte would not be happy if I simply walked on by and allowed her only patron to catch a cold. Speaking of which…” with a small gesture of his hand he clad Angel’s feet in some far more sensible footwear in the form of a pair of pumps that were so soft and fur lined that Angel would have sworn they were slippers. </p>
<p>“Ok, voodoo man, that’s enough,” Angel warned him with a sly smirk. “Ya should know that men who give me shoes always get the special treatment.” </p>
<p>“Haha, yes, I’m sure,” Alastor replied, the constant smile never leaving his face, but Angel could swear he saw a hint of pink creeping onto the demon’s grey skin, spreading across his cheeks and towards his hairline. “These look a lot more comfortable than your previous choice. I’m sure your poor feet are almost ripped to shreds in those monstrosities. Shall we off? I assume you are heading back to the hotel after what I am certain was an exciting night completely free of sinful indulgences?”</p>
<p>“Sure, smiles, just on the way back from my bible meeting,” Angel winked, linking his arm through Alastor’s with the same air of confidence as if they had been friends for years, brushing off the insult  directed at his precious shoes. “Nice of ya to escort me home, kind sir.” </p>
<p>“Yes, quite enough of that,” Alastor warned him stiffly, easing his arm free of Angel’s. “I will, of course, escort you back to the hotel, but there is no need for… unnecessary touching.” </p>
<p>“Oh, Al, all touchin’ is necessary in my world,” Angel replied, but obliged by the demon’s wishes and didn’t push to hold him again, simply happy to fall into line next to him and walk by him. He couldn’t lie, he found the uptight radio demon dangerously fascinating, and who could deny that being seen with the fearsome radio demon would do wonders for his street cred? Nobody would dream of hassling him with Alastor walking by him. </p>
<p>“What’s in the package, Smiles?” He asked conversationally as they walked. </p>
<p>“Venison,” Alastor replied. “I make it a personal aim to try out every butcher I find in Pentagram City and I had heard great things about that place.”</p>
<p>“Venison,” Angel repeated, thinking for a second. “Aint that deer? Bit cannibalistic don’t ya think?” </p>
<p>Alastor didn’t reply, simply gracing Angel with one of those wide smiles that made the spider demon think back to all the late night radio broadcasts he’d lay awake listening to over the last couple of months since the deer demon had moved into the hotel. He supressed a small shiver and tugged the new pink coat tighter around himself. </p>
<p>“Cold?” Alastor asked mildly. </p>
<p>“Definitely getting warmer.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>o0o</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The walk did go a lot faster with company, Angel noticed. Although the conversation had been mostly one sided with Angel asking most of the questions and getting polite, measured answers in response it had still been a nice walk none the less. As they made their way into the entrance hall Angel took off the coat and went to hand it back to Alastor. </p>
<p>“Keep it,” the demon told him with a wave of his hand. “I’m certain the colour would not suit me in the slightest.” </p>
<p>“Well, aint you a sweetheart?” Angel grinned, bobbing up to daringly place a quick kiss on Alastor’s cheek before he could protest. “Thanks, sugar daddy.” </p>
<p>“…Quite.” </p>
<p>Angel dived past him and sprinted up the stairs with a small wave just in case the deer took umbrage with him and decided to follow, escaping to the sanctity of his bedroom and falling back onto the bed with a relieved laugh. Fat nuggets padded over to him, waking up from his nap on the bed to great his owner. He nudged him with his snout and hopped down from the bed, landing with a cute thud and trotting over to his food bowl with a wide eyed expression. </p>
<p>“Aww, sorry Nugs,” Angel apologised, standing up from the bed and going to get the box of treats that he kept up here for Fat Nuggets. Usually the pig enjoyed the pick of the leftovers from the kitchen, but Angel had found some kibble that he just loved as a treat. Staying out all night and missing the pig’s breakfast definitely counted as treat time, he decided, upending a large serving from the box into the pig’s pink bowl. “Mama’s sorry, baby. Rough morning.” He glanced over at the coat he’d discarded on the bed and sat down on the edge, stroking the plush fur collar. “But I gotta admit it got better.” </p>
<p>He carefully picked the coat up, smoothing it out and heading over to his closet to hang it up with the rest of his clothes, hoping that the voodoo magic didn’t make it disappear at midnight like some Cinderella deal. As he hung it up something in the pocket bumped against his hand. Confused, he slipped his hand in and pulled out a small cardboard box marked with a red cross. </p>
<p>“Blister patches,” he read out, turning the box over in his hands and reading it. He covered his mouth with a hand to stifle the small chuckle that bubbled up. “Aw, Smiles… you cutie.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I picture Alastor as the kind of boyfriend who gives you thoughtful, functional presents that he knows you need rather than ones you want. Maybe not the flashiest of gifts, but ones that are appreciated none the less. </p>
<p>First time really writing Alastor so I hope I hit the mark!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Butchering your chances</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Charlie spurs Angel Dust on with plans of doing selfless acts to redeem himself.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Have some Charlie! Again, not someone I've really written much of in the past but I had a lot of fun making her into a demonically upbeat kindergarten teacher.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“So I was thinking, part of redemption is doing selfless things for other people,” Charlie was explaining, holding up a colourful chart to illustrate her point. It featured a carefully drawn figure of what Angel assumed was supposed to be a demon with a tally made up of hearts next to it. “See?” she pointed out, untacking one of the hearts and sticking it to the person. “When you do good things for people with no reward it’s good for the soul. It fills you up with goodness!” She demonstrated her point again by unsticking more of the little hearts and filling up the body until it was just a sea of red. </p><p>Angel wondered just how much time Charlie had spent making this just for one analogy. On closer inspection the demon she’d drawn was clearly supposed to be him, all smiley faced with the stripes on his jacket painstakingly picked out with glitter. He quirked his eyebrow up at her overjoyed expression, realising her silence and expectant look was his cue to say something. </p><p>“So I just do nice shit for the sake of being nice?” He asked. “What, like givin’ a guy a blowjob and not chargin’ him extra or something? I’m tryin’ to redeem myself not become a fuckin’ saint.” </p><p>“No, no, no! That’s not it at all,” Charlie sighed, putting the chart down and rubbing her face. This had worked so well when she’d practiced it earlier on Vaggie. Then again, she wondered if her girlfriend was just being nice. She started to remove the stick on hearts from the body and returned them to their original position on the page, biting her lip as she pondered how to best phrase this to Angel Dust. “It’s all about thinking of other people first,” she tried. “You know, like helping someone cross the street, or giving money to homeless people. Hasn’t anyone ever done anything for you like that?” </p><p>“Toots, the only people who are nice to me are the guys who want to get it on with me,” Angel scoffed, taking a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket and lighting up, ignoring the glitter covered no smoking sign that had appeared in Charlie’s office the day after their first ‘redemption session’ a few months ago. “Aint nobody in Hell wanderin’ around doing nice shit for free.” </p><p>“Angel, come on! There must be something you can think of,” Charlie pressed on, undeterred despite the rocky start. If this didn’t work she had a whole box file full of different ideas and colour coded charts to help her teach her mission. “You’ve been here for 70 years, you must be able to think of someone who’s done something nice for you that you can take inspiration from.” </p><p>“Well…” Angel tapped his cigarette on the arm rest thoughtfully. Charlie’s office was a tribute to all things cosy and cuddly which, Angel had to admit, felt really safe and inviting. He didn’t know what Alastor’s office might look like in comparison but he was willing to bet it wasn’t half as plush as this. As the smoke trailed up from his cigarette he started to think about Alastor. Not about what his office might look like, but about what he’d done a few days ago. He rubbed the back of his foot with his other through the plush slipper boots he had on, remembering the blister patches he’d found in his coat and how much they had helped with the sores on his feet from walking in those heels back from Val’s. “I guess maybe one person,” he said slowly, trying to choose his words carefully. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t want to admit it was Alastor he was thinking about. Maybe he was worried Charlie would think he was making it up, or maybe if he said it out loud it would make him question it himself too. “Like, maybe one guy thought about me when I wasn’t even really thinkin’ about myself.” </p><p>“That’s perfect!” Charlie trilled, bobbing up and down on her seat in excitement and taking a fresh sheet of paper out of her drawer. “Did you say thank you? You could do something to thank them!” She started to draw circles on the paper, connecting them all together with different coloured lines as she animatedly talked. “You could take them somewhere they like, or offer to help them with work,” she suggested, writing them down in each bubble with their own colour. “Or you could buy them a gift. What do they like?” </p><p>“I, uh, I don’t really know,” Angel admitted, trying to remember a time when Alastor had ever said anything about himself that was even close to personal. He mostly just loomed around the hotel with that creepy shadow of his, keeping an eye on everyone and generally being his unsettling and unerringly chipper self. He took a long drag on his cigarette and tried to think back to when they were walking through the city. They’d talked about Angel’s clothes, and how Alastor didn’t really like his shoes, and a whole lot of other things to do with Angel if truth be told. He’d been a perfect gentleman, not interrupting or trying to turn the conversation over to himself, he’d just listened to Angel rabbit on for the whole walk. </p><p>“Oh!” Angel snapped his fingers suddenly, putting his hand up on impulse as if he was in a classroom. “Meat!” </p><p>“Meat?” Charlie asked in confusion, a vivid orange marker in her hand hovering over the page. “They like meat?” </p><p>“Yeah!” Angel nodded, stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray that, despite the sign, Charlie still had on her desk during sessions with him. “He’s mad on it. Goes to, like, every butcher in the city!” </p><p>“Well that’s great,” Charlie smiled encouragingly, mentally storing away the fact Angel had said it was a ‘he’ rather than playing the pronoun game and avoiding being specific. Vaggie wouldn’t want her to interfere, but she’d been talking to Nifty and they’d both agreed that finding Angel a boyfriend would be a wonderful way of helping his redemption. The fact Angel had some mysterious man doing favours for him was really encouraging. She could practically hear the wedding bells and was already planning the reception in her head when Angel spoke up. </p><p>“So, like, I should buy him some meat?” He asked, rubbing the back of his head. “Seems a little weird, don’t cha think?” He smirked and winked suddenly. “I could give him some other kinda meat though, if ya get my drift?” </p><p>“Angel! Focus!” Charlie sighed. “You could take him out somewhere-“ she caught the look on Angel’s face “-or if that’s too… um… expensive right now you could cook for him here?” She didn’t exactly know what Angel’s financial situation was. All she knew was that despite all the expensive looking clothes he came home with every other day he’d been months in arrears on his rent when she met him. She hadn’t felt quite confident enough to ask what sort of wage he made with his work and wasn’t sure she really needed to know the going rate for a stripper slash porn star slash prostitute. </p><p>“I suppose I could try that,” he agreed reluctantly. He was a good cook, at least he had been when he was alive. He remembered making pasta with his sister, Molly, all the time and baking sweet desserts. Cooking a good steak, though, was something he was going to have to look in to. </p><p>“Excellent, that is, if Alastor lets you anywhere near the kitchen,” Charlie laughed. “He sure is protective of it. Ooh, or maybe he could teach you.” </p><p>“Nah, it’s ok, Princess,” Angel said quickly, holding up his hands and waving them to slow her down before she launched into another one of her bright ideas. “That all sounds swell. I can do it myself. So, like, can I go now?” </p><p>“Of course,” Charlie started to carefully fold up the sheet she’d drawn her chart on, neatly lining up each corner so it was a perfect square. “I think we’ve made real progress here today, Angel.” She held out the folded up paper with an eager smile. “Here you go, you can keep this to write down other ideas on. I left lots of blank bubbles for you to fill in.”  </p><p>“Gee, thanks,” Angel rolled his eyes but still took the offered paper, tucking it into the pocket in his shorts. It was cute of Charlie to keep trying like this. It would be the 31st of February when he got into Heaven and not a day sooner. But a small part of him did think it might be kind of nice to do something for Alastor to say thank you. He just had to hope the radio demon would accept it. </p><p> </p><p>o0o</p><p> </p><p>“Ok, so second right then first left,” Angel muttered out loud to himself, following the arrow on the VoxNav app on his phone. He tucked it back into his pocket when he rounded the suggested corners and found himself standing outside the butcher’s shop that he’d quite literally bumped into Al outside that day. Looking at the rows of meat in the window he bit his lip in concentration, trying to remember what it was the deer demon had been carrying. </p><p>“Venison?” He mused, remembering making some comment about cannibalism. Yeah, that was definitely it. Venison. Firing up some confidence he stepped into the store, the little bell signalling his arrival and causing the butcher to look up from behind the counter. </p><p>“Yes?” He asked. “Can I help you?” He was an imp, all red skin and long horns and standing on a stood hidden behind the counter to boost his height. </p><p>“Yeah, I want some of that venison,” Angel pointed to the cuts in the window. “Two, please.” </p><p>“You know how to cook it?” The imp asked, coming out from behind the counter and snapping on a pair of gloves before picking up one of the cuts and slapping it down on the counter to wrap. “This isn’t just a regular old steak.” </p><p>“Of course I know how to cook it,” Angel scoffed, tossing his hair and jutting his hip out. “Just wrap the damn thing and take my money.” </p><p>“Ok, that’ll be $55 each” the imp told him, starting to wrap up the meat and tie the package up with some twine. “Would you like a bag, Sir?” </p><p>“One hundred and ten bucks for a couple of slices of bambi’s ass? Fuck off!” Angel snorted, thinking it was the best joke he’d heard all day until he saw the blank look on the imp’s face, standing there expectantly holding his hand out for the money. “Jesus… fine, gimme a sec.” He pulled out his wallet and counted out some cash, sighing in frustration when he came up very short of the total. “God damn it. D’ya take plastic?” </p><p>“Certainly, Sir.” The imp took the card and frowned at the name. “Your name is Charlotte Magne?” </p><p>“Yup, sure is,” Angel grinned, making his voice jump an octave higher. “My friends call me Charlie.” </p><p>“Right…” The imp frowned, but swiped the card anyway. Money was money after all. “Enjoy your venison.” </p><p>“Thank you, snookums,” Angel took the parcel and blew a kiss to the imp butcher. He’d make it up to Charlie later, he promised himself. Besides, it was her dumb idea that he do something nice for Alastor to say thank you. She had money coming out of her ass thanks to her rich parents, so she was hardly going to miss a measly $110. </p><p>He was feeling more redeemed already.</p><p> </p><p>o0o</p><p> </p><p>Cooking Venison, Angel soon discovered, was a lot harder than simply tossing a steak into a pan and spritzing it with a bit of cracked pepper. He propped his phone up on the table against a bottle of wine that he’d poured a glass of for himself for the cooking process. To drink, obviously, not to actually put in the food. He squinted at the instructions on the screen and dumped the streaks into a bowl. </p><p>“Venison is best soaked in buttermilk to remove the gamey taste,” he read out loud. “Then leave it for… oh shit, 12 hours over night?” He rubbed his face in annoyance. Why hadn’t he looked this up before hand? He cursed quietly under his breath and looked around the kitchen. He couldn’t leave it overnight because Alastor would see it in the fridge when he got up in the morning and that would ruin the surprise. “Damn it…” He pushed the bowl to one side to clear some space and started chopping potatoes anyway, the meat would just have to deal with only being soaked for an hour, he decided. </p><p>He dumped the chopped vegetables into a pan of water and lit the stove, carefully transferring the heavy pot to the ring and placing a lid over it. Perfect, those would boil away nicely for a while then he could start to chop the other vegetables as well. He turned back to the counter and began to work through the various things he had, piling beetroot and carrots onto a tray to put into the oven. He hummed softly to himself as he worked. He might not be used to cooking this sort of thing, but it was still fun all the same. The stuff in the oven started to smell heavenly as it roasted and Angel calmly picked up his phone to scroll whilst he waited for the right time to start working on the steaks. </p><p>He was so absorbed in his Voxtagram scrolling that he didn’t hear footsteps entering the kitchen area. </p><p>“Are you cooking something, Angel Dust?” The spider demon looked up at the sound of the radio demon’s voice floating across the room and panicked, leaping to grab the bowl of soaking venison in an attempt to hide it before Alastor saw it. He yelped as his phone slipped from his hand, landing in the bowl with a splash. </p><p>“Ah, shit!” he put the bowl back down on the countertop, desperately digging into the bowl to retrieve his sopping wet, milk and blood covered phone. “Crap…” </p><p>“I don’t know much about modern technology,” Alastor commented from the doorway. “But I have heard that you are supposed to put them in rice when you submerge your communication device in water by accident. May I ask what you are doing?” </p><p>“Nothing! It’s just- shoo, go away!” Angel wrapped his arms around the bowl, hugging it to his chest with all four arms. “You aint meant to see it yet!” </p><p>“I’m not meant to… Angel Dust, is this for me?” A burst of static overlaid Alastor’s words as he walked towards the spider demon, peering over his shoulder into the milky bowl of meat. The smile on his face didn’t falter, but a small frown nestled between his eyes as he looked curiously at Angel. </p><p>“It was meant to be a surprise,” Angel sighed, still hugging the bowl. The longer Alastor stood there, the longer he was starting to think that this had all been a stupid idea from the start. How had he thought that the guy would be impressed by him cooking some dumb sit down dinner for him? “Charlie said I should do some selfless shit for somebody for this whole redemption thing and seen as ya were so sweet to me the other day with the coat and the- …and walkin’ me home, I just figured that…” he broke off with an exasperated growl, putting the bowl down in front of him and staring self-consciously down at the floor and wishing it would just swallow him up. “It’s dumb, forget it.” </p><p>“Not at all, my dear fellow,” Alastor smiled, stepping closer to the counter and pulling out one of the cuts. He inspected it critically and, before Angel had a chance to fathom out what he was doing, he took a large bite out of the raw meat. He looked thoughtful as he chewed, swallowing and smacking his lips as a small trail of blood ran down his chin. “Excellent quality, Angel Dust,” he complimented, taking another huge bite as the spider looked on in muted horror. “Though I would advise next time you dispense with the milk. It takes away all the game.” </p><p>Angel found his voice and swallowed nervously, fixated on the thin trickle of blood that still lingered on Alastor’s lips, a strange urge to kiss him suddenly taking over. He shook himself and pushed the bowl towards Alastor. “Help yourself,” he squeaked. “Veg is in the oven, should be done in about a half hour.” </p><p>“Did I do something wrong?” Alastor called after him, the left over steak still in his hand as he watched the demon high tail it out of the room. “What an odd fellow,” he murmured. “Ah well, waste not, want not.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Pro tip- if a guy cooks you dinner, assert dominance by dead ass biting into raw meat in front of him. Works every time.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chekhov's piece of paper</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>As our characters go their separate ways for a time, the plot thickens and something inconsequential becomes very important.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Check me out with my nerdy chapter titles! </p><p>This chapter was odd to write as I felt like there were a lot more breaks than I usually have. I try to limit myself to three situations per chapter but this one ran away with itself! It's all important set up though. Enjoy some Husk being totally over it all.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Having consumed the rest of the food that Angel Dust had so kindly left out for him and tidied away all the pots and pans, Alastor dusted his hands off and made his way out of the kitchen. He couldn’t deny that the spider demon’s behaviour had perplexed him. First off, the very notion of someone cooking a meal for him was such a bizarre concept that it was almost laughable, and second of all Angel Dust had run out of the kitchen as if he was terrified. Such a strange little creature, he mused, making his way to the reception area where Husker was diligently propping the bar up with a glass of scotch. The radio demon smiled contently, what was a nice dinner without a good drink to wash it down? </p><p>“Good evening, my dear Husker,” he greeted, seating himself at the bar and surveying the grumpy cat demon opposite him. “Be a good chap and pour me a glass would you?” </p><p>“What do you look so happy about?” Husk grunted as he picked up another bottle of scotch and set it down in the bar in front of Alastor before selecting a glass for him and adding some ice. He poured in the amber liquid and dropped in a slice of lemon, knowing the radio demon’s tastes without asking having been serving him for god only knew how long. </p><p>“I just enjoyed the most delicious cut of venison and roasted vegetables that I’ve had the pleasure of eating in a long while,” Alastor beamed, taking an approving sip of the whisky and smacking his lips in appreciation. “The meat was simply delightful, wonderfully fresh. Why, I believe this time yesterday the beast was still frolicking around in the fields, haha!” </p><p>“This the shit Angel was blabbering about earlier?” Husk asked, pouring himself another stiff drink. He’d watched Angel rushing around all morning muttering to himself about cooking times and shooing Nifty out of the kitchen every time she’d tried to get in to clean. On the plus side it had kept the sex obsessed demon out of his hair and away from his bar for the whole day so he wasn’t about to start complaining that the spider had found something else to focus on. </p><p>“Why, yes indeed,” Alastor confirmed. “It was quite the surprise I must tell you, completely out of the blue. I wonder if Miss Charlotte had a hand in it in some way. Though, I admit I was quite confused as to why I was the recipient of such a gesture. Our young Angel Dust has barely spoken to me since I arrived here.” </p><p>“Jesus, you really are bad at this aren’t you?” Husk sighed, topping up Alastor’s glass as the deer demon looked at him with a baffled expression on his face. Husk wasn’t about to spell it out to him, he was too old and too tired to explain the birds and the bees to someone as clueless as the radio demon. The dumb stag could work it out for himself for all Husk cared. </p><p>“Bad at what?” Alastor enquired, fixing Husk with an intense gaze that would normally make demons start to back away but when applied to the jaded cat demon simply made him even more done with the whole situation. </p><p>“Nothing, pal,” Husk shook his head. “Just, maybe tell Angel thank you for it. You didn’t do anything weird did you?” </p><p>“…Weird?” Alastor frowned. </p><p>“You know, you weren’t-“ Husk broke off, gesturing to Alastor with his hands for lack of better way to explain. “Yourself, you know?” </p><p>“I’m sure I don’t know who else I am supposed to be,” Alastor replied tersely, emptying the glass in front of him and pushing it towards the feline bar tender. “Many thanks for the drink, old friend. I believe it’s quite time for me to return to my room.” </p><p>“Yeah, whatever,” Husk grunted. “Just don’t go freaking anybody out on your way there.” </p><p>“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Alastor replied, disappearing into a pool of shadows. </p><p>“Sure you don’t,” Husk rolled his eyes, dispensing with the glass and simply taking a mouthful straight from the bottle. </p><p> </p><p>o0o</p><p> </p><p>Angel let himself drop back onto his bed upstairs in his room, moaning in irritation as he clutched his still wet phone. He mashed a few of the buttons on it to try and get it to respond and tossed it onto the pillow when it didn’t respond. </p><p>“Nice going, idiot,” he cursed under his breath, covering his face as he rolled over onto his front, practically burying himself in the plush, pink sheets. With another moan he looked up from them and caught eye contact with Fat Nuggets, looking at him expectantly from his basket. </p><p>“What d’ya think, Nuggs?” He asked the pig, rolling onto his back and staring up at the ceiling. “Did mama fuck up, or what?” The pig snuffled in response, climbing slowly out of his pillow stuffed basket and trotting over to the bed. He shakily teetered on his hind legs, waving his front hoofs to try and demand to be picked up. </p><p>“Aww, you want uppsies?” Angel grinned, looking down at him and reaching over the edge of the bed to pick him up. He hugged the little hell piglet tightly and planted a kiss on his forehead. “You’re the only guy I need, Nuggs,” he told him, giving him another kiss and not being able to handle the cute little squeal Nuggets made in reply. He reached for his phone, ready to take a picture, remembering as he pressed the screen that it was currently MIA. “Ah well, Voxtagram is gonna have to live without seein’ your cute lil’ face tonight,” he apologised to the pig, putting the useless phone down on the drawer top next to the bed. </p><p>What was it Al had said? Put it in rice? He snickered softly at the idea, it was such an old man thing to say that it was just too funny. Giving Nuggets one last cuddle and kiss he got up from the bed and made his way over to the vanity table. If he couldn’t sit scrolling his feed all night then he might as well do something productive, he guessed. Sitting down on the stool he unfolded the pieces of paper Charlie had given him the other day that he’d just thrown there and ignored once he’d gotten back to his room. Smoothing out the folds he stared down at the empty bubbles on the paper. </p><p>“Angel’s good deed plan,” he read out loud, unable to stop the smirk that formed as he reached for a pen. “Well… here goes nothin’.” </p><p>Therein lay the hard part. Charlie was great at coming up with ideas like this, but left to his own devices he was drawing a blank. He’d not even properly been able to do Charlie’s idea about cooking without it going wrong. His pen hovered over the page and eventually he wrote <em>’Try to thank Alastor properly’</em> in one of the bubbles. </p><p>“Hey, I’m doing good at this all ready, Nuggs!” He called over to the pig, holding up the page to show him. The pig shuffled to the edge of the bed and appeared to be studying the page, grunting and shaking his head. “What d’ya mean?” Angel scoffed, turning the paper back to himself to look at. “It’s not just copying Charlie at all, shut yer snout.” With a sulky expression he put the paper back down and chewed the end of the pen. </p><p>“Think, think, think…” he muttered. “What’s a good selfless deed?” He started to doodle on the edges of the paper, dumb pictures of cocks and rocket ships, as he pondered what he could do. Every thought kept coming back to Alastor, damn it. <em>’Help Alastor in the kitchen’</em> he wrote eventually, doodling a little cartoon of a deer with big teeth next to the bubble and adding a little spider next to it.  <em>’Take Alastor somewhere with nice food’</em> he added to another. He looked down at the two things he’d written on the mostly scribbled on piece of paper. Sure, they were very centred around one thing, but it was a start, wasn’t it? </p><p>He rested his chin on his hand, sighing at his reflection in the mirror. “Anthony,” he said to himself. “You are a dumb idiot for gettin’ sweet on the wrong guy again.” </p><p> </p><p>o0o</p><p> </p><p>Without his phone to distract him, Angel found that he got some more ideas sooner or later. They still all had one thing in common but he had filled more than half of the bubbles on Charlie’s little chart so he was going to call that a win. He leant back on the stool and caught sight of the clock on the wall, swearing when he saw the time. He was supposed to be on shift in 30 minutes! With his phone being out of whack he’d not had his usual alarm go off to tell him to get going. Jumping up from the stool he shoved the pieces of paper into his shorts pocket and grabbed his new pink and black coat from the closet. He’d finish it in his dressing room between sets, he told himself. </p><p>Sprinting down the stairs he blew a kiss to Husk on the bar and called out for him to make sure Nuggets went to bed on time. The cat hissed something in reply that Angel didn’t hear because he was already out of the door. The spider demon practically ran the whole way to the 666 club, completely out of breath when he staggered through the stage door. </p><p>“You’re late.”</p><p>Angel looked up at the clock on the wall, flinching at Val’s sharp tone. “I aint late yet, boss,” he tried, pointing up to the clock. “Here with 2 minutes to spare.” </p><p>“I texted you three hours ago telling you to come in early, you pink bimbo,” Val snarled, angrily puffing smoke from his red tipped cigarette. “Dia got a John for the night so I needed you to cover her set. Where the fuck were you?” </p><p>“Shit, I’m sorry Val,” Angel paled, taking a few steps back. “I… I didn’t have my phone see cos’- trust me you’re gonna laugh at this- but I was tryin’ to cook and I dropped my phone in the- ah!” He winced as Val took hold of his wrist, roughly pulling him towards him and tightening his grip, twisting slightly until Angel cried out. </p><p>“I don’t want to hear excuses, Angel Dust,” Val hissed, jerking him closer and smirking at the noise that elicited. “You think you can have one night fucking around with me when I’ve got the sads and suddenly you can start taking the piss at work? Is that it?” </p><p>“N-No, Val, I swear I was tellin’ the truth,” Angel whimpered. “I really didn’t have my phone. It got bust up, I promise.” He hissed in pain as Val twisted his arm more, pulling it to an almost unnatural angle before letting go and patting his cheek with a smile. </p><p>“Ok, baby,” the moth smiled. “I believe you. You go run and get changed, and if you shake that ass good tonight on stage and bring me in your cut <em>and</em> Dia’s that you missed coverin’ then Daddy’ll buy you a new phone. Sound fair?” </p><p>“Yes, Daddy, thank you,” Angel murmured, rubbing his sore wrist and looking down at his shoes. “I’m sorry I messed up and didn’t get your texts.” </p><p>“I know you are, sweetie. Now off you go.” </p><p> </p><p>o0o</p><p> </p><p>Angel sat himself down in his dressing room, facing the mirror and starting to get his face looking half way presentable for a show. Usually he liked to get there in decent time and spend a good hour or two doing his hair and make-up so that he knew it would look perfect on stage. Now, thanks to him losing track of time, he’d need to do it double quick and hope no one paid too much attention to his face. </p><p>He rubbed some blush into his fur and frowned. <em>Not like any of those Johns are lookin’ at my face anyway,</em> he thought ruefully as he placed the brush down and inspected his handiwork. He knew some nights he could probably go out without anything on his face at all and those horny demons in the crowd probably wouldn’t even tell the difference. He’d know, though. Going out without his war paint on was unthinkable. It was like a mask that shielded him from everything and gave him that extra layer of protection that got him through the night. He touched up his lipstick and blew himself a kiss in the mirror, self-critical of his rush job and wishing he had more time. </p><p>He slipped off the coat and tenderly hung it up on the end of his rack of stage clothes, his fingers lingering on the soft fur of the collar. Remembering the worksheet from Charlie in his back pocket he pulled it out and slipped it into the top drawer of his vanity for later. If he got a break tonight he would try and fill some more in for his next meeting with Charlie tomorrow. The outfit he’d picked out to wear for dinner with Alastor was suitable enough for work, he decided, assessing the look in the mirror now he could see it all with the make-up. He’d chosen a strappy gold top with a plunging neckline that emphasised his fur with matching shorts edged in gold sequins. Gold was classy, everybody knew that. Topping the look off with some sky scrapper heels he gave his fur one last fluff and hightailed it out of the dressing room to the stage. </p><p> </p><p>o0o</p><p> </p><p>As his set finished Angel exited the stage to rapturous applause and catcalls, bills tucked into the waistband of his shorts and clenched in his fists. He started to count them all up in the backstage area and sighed in relief as it came to a healthy total. It looked like Val wouldn’t have anything to complain about tonight, at least not about his takings anyway. </p><p>He signalled the bar tender for a drink as he slipped out from backstage, ready to work the crowd like he usually did after a set. Val always said that clients were more likely to bite straight after a dance set so it was easy extra cash to find a lonely demon to relieve of his money for 15 minutes of grinding. </p><p>Speaking of lonely demons.</p><p>Angel tensed as he saw Vox cuddling up to Val in one of the booths, drink in hand and laughing loudly at something the moth demon had just said. Angel averted his gaze and tried to make his way in the opposite direction, but too late. Val caught sight of him and waved him over, patting the space on his other side and motioning for Angel to sit down. His expression implied it wasn’t a request that Angel should refuse so the spider demon reluctantly put a swagger into his step and minced over, perching on the seat and giving Val a quick kiss on the cheek in greeting. </p><p>“Ya like my dancing, Daddy?” He purred, stroking his leg and walking his finger along the black garter straps that held up Val’s stockings. “All the guys out there sure did. I made ya a tonne of green.” </p><p>“That’s my good boy,” Val praised, running his hand over his and interlocking his fingers. “I knew you’d do a good job tonight. Voxxy, tell Angel he did a good job.” </p><p>“Oh, were you dancing tonight?” Vox asked, his voice coated in honey and fake sweetness. “Sorry, I didn’t notice.” He drew a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and popped one into his mouth, patting his jacket down for a lighter and growling with a hiss of static when he came up short. “Val, gimme a light.” </p><p>“Mine ran out, go borrow one off someone else,” Val told him with a wave of his hand, still focused on Angel as he started to pull him up onto his lap. “Angel’s probably got one in his dressing room. Just go nab one from there.”</p><p>“Buh bye, Voxxy,” Angel simpered. “I’ll keep Val nice and warm for ya.” He winked at the TV demon, revelling in his obvious frustration at being ousted so easily and waved at him as he walked away.</p><p>“Fuck you, slut,” Vox muttered under his breath and he stalked away. Childish? Yes. Satisfying? Also yes. Vox might be an overlord but he never claimed to not be petty about certain things, especially things that concerned Angel Dust. If he’d told Val once, he’d told him a thousand times that he didn’t understand what the guy’s obsession with the fluffy spider boy was. Just because Val had the bimbo firmly in his back pocket and literally owned his soul didn’t mean he had to spend so much damn time with him. </p><p>Vox stalked down the corridor to Angel’s dressing room, his lip curling into a sneer at all the pink décor and plush throws and cushions strewn on the couch. It was all so dainty and frivolous. He rolled his eyes at all the nonsense scattered around the vanity table and the pictures tacked to the mirror. That loud mouthed aussie cyclops that he spent so much time with and that bad-tempered cat demon that worked at the hotel. Pathetic. He pulled open one of the drawers, rooting around for a lighter and only finding more make-up and some battery powered boyfriends. He riffled through the others before he eventually found what he was looking for, slipping the pink lighter into his pocket and catching sight of some folded up paper. </p><p>Being nosey for the sake of it he took it out and unfolded it, expecting it to be some kind of invoice or shooting schedule. Instead, he was rather pleasantly surprised by the colourful writing. </p><p>“Angel’s good deed plan,” He read, smirking a little bit. That wasn’t Angel’s handwriting at all, but as he read on he was certain that the rest of the writing matched the spider demon’s loopy scrawl. “Thank Alastor properly,” he continued out loud. “Help him in the kitchen… take him somewhere with nice food… Jesus Christ, is this kid for real?” He snickered as he read further along, his pixelated smile widening the more he took in. Every single word on this page was about the fucking <em>Radio Demon</em>.</p><p>He took out his phone and snapped a quick photo of the page before putting the sheet back exactly where he’d found it and closing the drawer with a smile. </p><p>“You fuck with my boyfriend, I fuck with yours, spider boy.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Fun fact, when I first planned this out Vox did not have a role as big as he is starting to get! I feel I should warn y'all that my head canon for Vox is that he's powerful, but in a tech geek who lives in his mother's basement kind of way. Uber hacker, super techy and could probably topple all of Hell by bugging the wifi but also a terrible geek boy incel.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Coffee cup confessions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Angel Dust finally gets to escape from the club with a promise of an apology gift from Vox. Alastor struggles to articulate his feelings and Nifty is just there for the fanfiction prompts.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>And now we get some Nifty! This fic is really challenging me writing all of the characters as background additions. My last big one only really got Val and Angel so I'm enjoying thinking about how everyone interacts. </p>
<p>Buckle up for more of Vox being a huge brat!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You were gone a while,” Val commented when Vox finally returned to the booth, sliding back in next to him and finally lighting up his cigarette with the pink lighter he’d taken from Angel’s dressing room. </p>
<p>“Eh, Angel’s dressing room was a real trash pile,” Vox shrugged. “Took me a while to find it.” He took a drag and stared down the spider demon, fighting down the urge to gloat over what he’d just seen and satisfying himself by settling back with a drink instead. The TV demon took a long slug of the electric blue cocktail Val had bought him earlier and cosied back up to his boyfriend, nestling comfortably against his shoulder and tuning into whatever it was he was talking about. </p>
<p>Apparently it was something about a shoot he and Angel were doing tomorrow. Not something Vox was particularly interested in unless he got to do much of the video editing afterwards. In his opinion once you’d seen Angel fuck once you’d seen him fuck a thousand times- literally, Vox had lost count of how many movies the spider demon had done in the last 70 years once it had passed the latter end of triple figures. </p>
<p>“You gonna get me my little beaver demon back, daddy?” Angel was purring, kissing at Val’s neck and nipping at the skin there. “Ya know how much I like teeth.” </p>
<p>“Anything you want, baby doll,” Val assured him, stroking the back of his neck and, much to Vox’s annoyance, still completely ignoring him. </p>
<p>“Shouldn’t you be getting back to your little hotel?” Vox sneered, nudging Angel’s ankle under the table with his foot. “Don’t Angels in training have a curfew?” </p>
<p>Angel pulled away from Val, tilting his head as he looked at Vox. He was glad of the excuse to have to leave and to stop playing the eager whore for Val just to butter him up for an easy shoot tomorrow. Vox was always a snippy jerk whenever he was around him, so regardless of the way he was going about it Angel was thankful for the window of opportunity the TV demon had just given him. </p>
<p>“Mista Vox is right,” he nodded, his face a picture of regret as he reached over to down the rest of his drink. “I better get home before management spanks me for bein’ late.” He felt a naughty little thrill at the idea of one half of the management duo doing something like that. Alastor unleashing a little bit of good old fashioned punishment with those freaky shadows of his would certainly be much more fun than putting stickers on a chart with Charlie. “Be thinkin’ of ya when I go to sleep, Mista Valentino.” He winked at his boss and quickly slid out of the booth before he could get a chance to hold him there for any longer, blowing a kiss over his shoulder and striding away from the table as fast as he could without looking like he was running. </p>
<p>He stopped by his dressing room first, retrieving his redemption ‘hpmework’ from the drawer where he’d left it and slipping on his coat. It wasn’t that cold outside, he figured, but the comfort of it was still nice. He smiled to himself as he buttoned it up, admiring himself in the mirror again in it and making his way back out into the corridor to go out of the staff exit to avoid walking back through the club.</p>
<p>“Hey, Angel Dust!” </p>
<p>He turned on his heel at the sound of Vox’s voice behind him and sighed, putting his hand on his hip and looking the other demon up and down. </p>
<p>“What do you want?” He asked bluntly. “I left your boy candy alone so get off my back.” He shouldn’t talk to an overlord like that, especially one as close to Val as Vox was, but it was late and he wanted to get back to the hotel. Vox had even hinted at him to go away so why was the jealous little bunch of circuits following him now? </p>
<p>“Yeah, about that…” Vox actually looked a bit embarrassed, a pink glow emitting from his screen as he scratched the cables at the back of his head, shuffling on the spot. “I’m… sorry I was such a jerk back there.” He said the <em>’sorry’</em> as if it was a foreign word that he wasn’t quite sure he was pronouncing properly, which Angel presumed that knowing Vox, it probably was. “I just get really crazy over Valentino sometimes, you know? You’re, all-“ he gestured up and down at Angel, “-and I’m, well, I’m no porn star.” </p>
<p>“Uh, yeah, don’t sweat it,” Angel muttered, feeling uncomfortable with yet another overlord showing emotion in front of him. This was getting to be quite an annoying quirk he’d developed. He was starting to wonder if he had a sign pinned to his back that said <em>’unload your emotional problems here.’</em> “I’m sure ya got lotsa good qualities Val admires.”</p>
<p>“True but I don’t need to be such a dick to you about it,” Vox pressed on, taking Angel’s hand and pressing the pink lighter he’d borrowed into it. “Let me make it up to you. Val said you broke your phone today, right? Well, how about I give you a new one? Top of the line, no charge. Sound good?” </p>
<p>“I dunno…” Angel hesitated. </p>
<p>“I insist. It’s a gift!” Vox said firmly. “I’ll send it over to the hotel tomorrow for you.” He clapped Angel heartily on the shoulder and strode away beaming, leaving Angel standing with a bemused expression on his face holding the lighter in his hand. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>o0o</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Voxxy…. It’s late, come to bed…” Val stretched out on the sheets, showing off the leather and lace adorning his purple flesh as he beckoned to his boyfriend. Vox looked over his shoulder, a burst of static rushing across his screen at the sight of Val waiting for him like that on the bed, and tightened his grip on the tweezers he was holding. They’d gotten in from the club an hour ago and Vox had gone right to his work desk to start fiddling with a phone for Angel. </p>
<p>“Not now, Val,” he said firmly, dragging his focus back to the job at hand and trying to shut himself off from distractions such as the scantily clad moth behind him. He carefully eased something out of the dismantled phone in front of him and placed it down on the mat next to it, picking up a small coil afterwards and gently manipulating it around one of the miniscule wires in the phone. </p>
<p>“Come on, I got somethin’ much more fun than all your gizmos and circuits,” Val cooed, rolling onto his front and leaning off the end of the bed, reaching out with one hand to stroke up Vox’s spine. The demon jerked, dropping what he’d been carefully trying to hold in the tweezers and cursing. </p>
<p>“Val! Quit it, you’re going to make me short circuit something,” he hissed, batting behind him with his free hand to halt his boyfriend’s insistent pawing. </p>
<p>“Mmm, I know something’ else ya could short circuit, if ya get my drift.” </p>
<p>“Val…”</p>
<p>“I’ll let ya go on top.” </p>
<p>Vox twitched. “…ok, fine, but then you’ve got to let me finish this.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>o0o</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Miss Angel Dust! You have a package!” </p>
<p>Angel rubbed his eyes sleepily as he came down the stairs. Despite leaving the club at a reasonable hour last night he still didn’t feel like he’d gotten enough sleep. Nuggets had been needy and fidgeting in the bed next to him all night, whining and nudging him for attention. Angel figured the poor thing had gotten lonely in the day without him and slept for most of it so he was wide awake at night wanting to play. It was adorable, but at the same time not conducive with a good night of rest. </p>
<p>“Wha’?” He mumbled, moving past Nifty and towards the kitchen to blindly look for some coffee to help himself perk up a bit. He started to spoon some instant stuff of Husker’s into a mug and liberally added sugar. </p>
<p>“A package,” Nifty repeated, bouncing excitedly as she held up the wrapped item. “It arrived this morning! Open it! Open it! Is it fan mail? Oooh, do you think it’s chocolate?” </p>
<p>“I dunno, hun,” Angel replied, taking a swig of the scaling hot coffee and sighing contently. He took the parcel from the diminutive cyclops and tore off the wrapping. Inside was a VOGITEK box which, when he opened it, he found contained a shiny new phone. He took it out and turned it over in his hands, pressing the power button and watching as it loaded up instantly, a message flashing on the screen. </p>
<p>
  <em>Told you I’d give you the best. All your old stuff should be transferred over too, nothing’s ever lost online! Enjoy. Vox.</em>
</p>
<p>“A phone?” Nifty sounded disappointed. </p>
<p>“Yeah,” Angel nodded, frowning a little. He’d not expected Vox to follow through on his offer, but here he was with the latest hellphone in a model that wasn’t even in stores yet. “Little outta character for the guy to be so generous,” he mused. He surfed through some of the icons on the screen and let out a low whistle. Vox hadn’t been wrong, everything from his old phone was transferred over to this thing and all his social apps were already signed in. He flicked open the camera and pouted, snapping a pic of himself with the mug of coffee in his hand. Even the camera was better quality than his old one. He angled it again, sticking out his tongue and running it along the edge of the mug. </p>
<p>“My, I didn’t know instant coffee was so invigorating.” </p>
<p>Angel looked up at the sound of Alastor’s voice, turning the camera off and slipping the phone into his pocket. Nifty jumped to attention as soon as the deer demon walked in, scuttling over to set up the decent coffee maker that Angel couldn’t be bothered messing around with. If he wanted a good cup of coffee he’d buy one at a café, here in the hotel he’d make do with whatever instant crap Husker bought in bulk at the discount store. </p>
<p>“Gotta keep those Voxtagram hearts flyin’ in,” Angel shrugged, taking another drink and moving out of the way for Nifty to finish up making Alastor’s coffee. “I can make anything a thirst pic.” He winked at the demon and licked his lips suggestively. “Especially if it’s got cream in it.” </p>
<p>“…Indeed,” Alastor took the cup Nifty was holding out to him and looked anywhere but at Angel Dust, seeming as if he wanted to say something but wasn’t quite sure what. Angel quirked his eyebrow at him, putting his now empty cup into the sink and smiled at the demon on the way past, brushing his hand ‘accidentally’ against his arm. </p>
<p>Alastor finally seemed to find his tongue at that and sharply stepped away, putting the kitchen table between them to forge a barrier of sorts and settling down in one of the chairs. “Miss Charlotte said she would like to see you when you are free,” he said, a low hum of feedback dancing over his words like a radio caught between two stations. </p>
<p>“Well aint that swell?” Angel smirked, straightening up and mincing towards the door. “Best go see her then, hadn’t I? Thanks for lettin’ me know, Al.” </p>
<p>“Angel Dust?” </p>
<p>“Yes?” Angel turned back, hovering in the doorway and casually straightening the front of his jacket. “Anything else?” </p>
<p>“Are you, ahem, working later today?” Alastor asked, trying to choose his words carefully and tracing his finger around the edge of the cup, static tingling around it in a shrill buzz. “I wondered if you might accompany me somewhere?” </p>
<p>“Accompany ya?” Angel willed his heart to stop beating so fast, the confident persona staying well and truly up as he schooled his facial expression into something bored and uncaring. “Well, I’m workin’ this evening on a shoot but I guess after I see Charlie I got some time. Why?” </p>
<p>“After your, how shall I put this, presentation yesterday I thought I should return the favour,” Alastor said delicately. “Would you be so kind as to join me for a spot of afternoon tea?” </p>
<p>“Would I be so kind as to…” Angel repeated, trailing off and bringing his hand up to his mouth to cover it, biting back a small giggle that threatened to erupt. He couldn’t laugh at him, he couldn’t, but he just sounded so cute and formal talking like that he just didn’t know how else to react. Never in his life, or afterlife come to think of it, had someone said something like that to him. </p>
<p>“Yeah, yeah that’d be real swell,” Angel nodded, biting his bottom lip. “I’ll chat to ya after I see Charlie, yeah?” He chuckled softly and left the kitchen before he started laughing, rounding the corner outside and stuffing his fists into his mouth to muffle the giggles. He had a date. He had a date with the <em>Radio Demon.</em></p>
<p>Back in the kitchen Nifty tugged on the hem of Alastor’s jacket, having apparently been forgotten by both of the men in the room. “Mister Alastor?” She said softly, her eyes shining in wonder. “Do you like Miss Angel Dust?” </p>
<p>“Not at all, Nifty,” Alastor denied quickly, clutching his mug and hiding his face by looking down. “I’m simply returning a favour.” </p>
<p>“Oh, ok…” Nifty frowned, pulling herself up onto a chair for a better view. “It’s just… your coffee mug is starting to bubble.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Nifty is just there for the cute boys flirting. You just know she has the most highly rated fanfiction account in Hell for these guys. </p>
<p>Just a heads up kids, don't accept phones from evil overlords. It can never end well. </p>
<p>Keep those reviews coming in! I love hearing people's thoughts and reactions. I'm also overwhelmed by the kudos this keeps getting. That makes me feel so happy. If you have any theories or prompts drop them in a review, I love to see what sort of things people would like to happen and you never know where inspiration might come from</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. The rituals of cream tea</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Angel and Alastor enjoy a charming date together, learning a few things about each other in the process.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>It's date time! Well, is it a date? Neither of them have actually confirmed or denied it yet. I feel like it will take a long time before either of them fess up to what these moments together actually are.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Charlie laid the paper out on her desk, her face lighting up at the sight of all the work Angel had done since the previous day. Truth be told she hadn’t expected the spider demon to take any notice at all of the work she’d set, and she’d worried that just a day to jot down some ideas had been too much of an ask but here they were! She clasped her hands together in excitement as she read over the good deeds suggestions, her smile falling a notch or two when she noticed they were all, well, quite similar. </p><p>“Gee, Angel, it’s really wonderful you’ve done this…” she said carefully, trying to put a positive spin on it just like she’d read in all of her mentoring help books and articles. “You’ve definitely shown some real progress towards redemption being able to think of all these great suggestions.” She steepled her fingers and bit her lip, trying to think how to phrase it without sounding too mean. “It’s just… I was thinking more like…” </p><p>“Helping old ladies cross the street and rescuing puppies?” Angel asked dryly, already lighting up his first cigarette. “Toots, I told ya, I aint that kind of guy.” He blew out some of the smoke and reclined back in the chair. “I did your little assignment just like ya asked- ya said thankin’ Al was a good idea.” </p><p>“It was, it was!” Charlie agreed quickly, raising her hands in surrender. The last thing she wanted was for Angel to feel defeated and like he’d done something wrong. “It was a great idea. I just thought we might be able to find even more things for you to do.” She folded the paper up and pushed it across the desk towards Angel. “You’ve made a really good start and now you’d had a bit of practice thinking of these things I’m sure you’ll come up with even more great ideas that we can try!” </p><p>“Whatever,” Angel reached out for the paper and tucked it into his pocket. “I’ll think about it.” </p><p>“Perfect, how about we have another talk tomorrow?” Charlie trilled, not letting herself be down for even a second about all this. “How about lunch time?” </p><p>“Eh, tomorrow’s not good for me,” Angel shrugged. “Got a hot date later and a late shoot tonight so I’ll be hittin’ the sack as soon as I get in. I’ll probably be out of it most of tomorrow.” </p><p>“A date?” Charlie asked eagerly. “With who?” </p><p>“Aw, ChaCha, a lady never kisses and tells,” Angel winked, standing up and stubbing out his cigarette in the ash tray that was still so helpfully on her desk just for him. “See ya later.” He flexed his fingers in a small wave and sauntered out of her office, brushing his hair back as he caught sight of himself in one of the many hallway mirrors. When he got up the stairs he leant over the bannister on the mezzanine and watched as Nifty flittered around the hallway cleaning. Alastor must have left the kitchen already, he mused. It occurred to him that he hadn’t actually set a time to meet with the radio demon and didn’t actually have any way of contacting him to check if he’d gone out. The guy was so technophobic that even the idea of having a hellphone would probably send him into a seizure. </p><p>“Guess I gotta go find him,” he mused out loud, scaling the corridor until he got to the room that he’d seen Alastor going in and out of in the few times they’d passed each other on a morning or evening. He rapped on the door and waited patiently for an answer, his face splitting into a grin when the man, or demon, in question opened up. </p><p>“Oh, Angel Dust, is everything alright?” Alastor asked. “I expected your meeting with Miss Charlotte to go on for quite some time.” </p><p>"Yeah everything is roses,” Angel laughed nervously, feeling a bit out of place all of a sudden. He could see into Alastor’s room in the small gap between him and the door, but nothing that gave him any clues about the demon he was supposed to be meeting with later. “I just wondered what time you were thinkin’ for our d- get together.” </p><p>“What time?” Alastor repeated with a laugh, a musical undercurrent jingling along with the tracked laughter. “Why, it’s afternoon tea, my good fellow. 3 o’clock in the afternoon, of course.” </p><p>“Oh! Right, uh, silly me,” Angel scratched the back of his head and gave a tinkling, air head laugh, the kind he used at the club when a client cracked a joke that he didn’t understand. “3 o’clock, yeah. Totally! Just… checkin’ me and you were on the same page for the… tea timing…” </p><p>"Jolly good. Shall I meet you downstairs at, say, half past two?” Alastor enquired with a grin, unperturbed by Angel’s sudden apparent awkwardness. “That should give us plenty of time for a leisurely stroll to the Gluttony district.” </p><p>“We’re crossin’ over?” Angel had only ever been to a few of the sin districts in Hell, he mainly stayed within the Lust District, perhaps with jaunts to Greed for the mall and coffee shops or Envy to see his brother. Gluttony was a region he had never been to in all his decades in Hell. He’d heard stories about the place, none of them pleasant, so was more than a little sceptical. “Is that safe?”</p><p>“My dear Angel Dust,” Alastor’s grin widened as he leaned forward. “I guarantee no one will disturb us.” </p><p> </p><p>o0o</p><p> </p><p>Yet another dress joined the pile on his bed as Angel rummaged through his closet. This was only a fraction of the clothes he owned, some being at the studio in his dressing room and others still in Val’s apartment that he’d either left there or just never collected. He whined in frustration as he held a dress up against himself in the mirror, critically turning this way and that to look it over. It just wasn’t right, he decided, adding it to the rapidly growing pile of vetoed clothes. Everything was either too short, too low cut or just too flashy. </p><p>“Why don’t I own anything normal?” He sighed out loud, digging back through the pile to see what he’d missed. Even his lounge clothes that he wore on his off days were booty shorts and crop tops, he realised with a sinking heart. He wasn’t upset with his style choices at all, he knew he looked a million dollars in every single item he owned, but that didn’t solve the fact that he was slowly realising that he had never purchased a single thing that could be worn to a quaint little afternoon tea date. </p><p>“Nuggs, what am I gonna do?” He looked at the clock on his phone. One more hour until he was supposed to be heading off with Alastor. That was no time at all to run out and buy something and he still had his hair and make up to deal with. “Any ideas, piggy?” </p><p>Fat Nuggets plodded across the floor, stepping around all the assorted bits that had fallen free of the clothes mountain on the bed and picked up a flyer from the floor in his mouth, shaking his head and making it rustle loudly. Angel frowned and bent down to pick it up. It was one of the posters Charlie had made for the hotel back in the early days, a cute little cartoon covered in smiley faces and the words ‘Happy Hotel!’ in big bright letters. </p><p>“I’m already in the hotel, Nuggs,” Angel reminded him. “And I aint got any clothes here.” </p><p>The pig stamped his hooves in frustration, squealing and waggling his front trotters at the poster in Angel’s hand. </p><p>“It’s just Charlie’s dumb poster,” Angel repeated. “What’s that got to do with-“ He had what could only be described as a lightbulb moment and snapped his fingers. “Nuggs that’s it! Charlie!” He picked up the pig and planted a huge kiss on his head. “Thank you, baby, you’re always lookin’ out for Mama.” He discarded the poster on the bed and placed Fat Nuggets back down, bounding out of the room to go and accost Charlie and hopefully convince her to lend him a dress. </p><p> </p><p>o0o</p><p> </p><p>“My dear, you look simply radiant,” Alastor complimented him when Angel turned up to meet him by the main entrance right on time. </p><p>He had begged and pleaded with Charlie to lend him something, promising to do the dishes and help Nifty clean for a whole month if she’d loan him a dress for just a few hours. She’d made him promise that it wasn’t going to turn up in any photoshoots or pornos and he had solemnly sworn that her dress would have its virtue protected at all costs.  After a clever bit of demon magic curtesy of the princess of Hell it even accommodated his extra limbs. Once they found a matching purse for him he felt like the sweetest thing in all of Hell and deliriously happy with how he looked. </p><p>“Oh, this old thing?” He laughed, twirling to show off the strawberry printed pink dress. “Just something I pulled out of the closet.” His fringe fell in soft curls over one side of his face, the product of a lot of careful styling and time. “Strawberry print for my strawberry pimp.” </p><p>Alastor hasn’t changed at all, but Angel noted that he did seem to smell of some kind of smoky cologne and that his shoes appeared to be gleaming and polished. He took his offered arm and found himself giggling again at how sweet and proper it all was. Just as they were making their way towards the door they were stopped by Vaggie calling out to Angel Dust, running down the stairs after them. </p><p>“Angel, hold on,” The female moth demon started to unclip the long tailed pink bow she wore in her hair and came up behind Angel, clipping the hair piece onto the back of his curls so that the tails ran down to his back. </p><p>“Charlie said you were going out,” She told him, smiling as the Spider danced over to the large mirror by the bar to check out the accessory. “She said you were wearing that dress and… well… I thought it might look good with it.” </p><p>“Thanks, doll, it looks real swell,” Angel grinned, coming over and giving her a small kiss on the cheek. “Very redeemin’ of ya to lend it to me,” he whispered in her ear with a teasing wink, causing her grey skin to turn a shade of pink. He knew she was taking part in Charlie’s redemption programme as well and wondered if she had a sheet full of bubbles with good deeds written in them too. </p><p>“Yeah, well…” she moved away, embarrassed by the show of affection. “It looks good on you. Take care of it.” </p><p>“I will!” Angel promised, linking his arm back with Alastor’s. “Shall we, Monsieur?” </p><p> </p><p>o0o</p><p> </p><p>The menu might as well have been written in Greek for all the good it did Angel Dust as they were seated at a small table in the garden of the tea parlour Alastor had chosen for them both. He looked over all the various options for sandwiches and cakes, feeling way out of his depth as his eyes scanned the looping gold text. </p><p>“Everything alright?” Alastor asked pleasantly. He had been the perfect gentleman all of the walk to the café and Angel had noticed several demons and imps on the route scurry out of their way. One imp had even ran into traffic rather than walk on the same side of the street at them. Angel had found it all very bizarre but the deer demon had simply continued on his merry way, humming a simple tune as they walked and occasionally pausing to point out a shop or attraction to Angel. When they had arrived at the café the owner had walked them right past a queue of other demons to sit them outside, Alastor hadn’t even given his name for a reservation. </p><p>“Yeah it’s just… a lot,” Angel admitted, setting the menu down and twisting his hands on his lap. “I’m not used to havin’ that much choice when I go to a fancy joint like this.” Any time he went to a restaurant with work either Val or the client chose what he was having. Val would often just order him a salad or push a drink his way, commenting that liquid calories didn’t count. It was a bit of a mind fuck suddenly having all this choice. </p><p>“Take your time,” Alastor smiled. “I doubt they will be kicking us out anytime soon, haha!” Angel wondered if Alastor was completely oblivious to the effect he had on the demons around him, or if he was simply just past caring. </p><p>“Thanks,” Angel grinned gratefully, finally deciding on a selection of sandwiches and cakes to tell the waiter who sprung to their table the second his menu touched down on the cloth. </p><p>“And would Sir like a glass of champagne with that?” </p><p>Angel looked questioningly at Alastor, almost seeking approval before he said yes. Val would have wanted him drunk and sociable but he wasn’t with Val right now. He had to keep reminding himself of that. He nodded, feeling a small flicker of relief when Alastor asked for one as well with his order. So, apparently fizzy wine in the middle of the day was ok as long as it was with tea and scones? </p><p>“D’ya do this sort of thing often?” Angel asked once the waiter had gone. “Didn’t peg ya for someone who likes fancy tea cups and cream scones.”</p><p>“I have always enjoyed the ritual of it all,” Alastor hummed softly. “Everything in its proper place to be used at the right time. There is a lovely sense of ceremony to the whole affair that I find very pleasing.” </p><p>“Huh, I guess it makes sense when ya say it like that,” Angel nodded. The idea suited the uptight radio demon very nicely. Angel could picture him treating his victims with the same kind of methodical attention, his radio broadcasts were always a very grand offering that, now he thought about it, were likely all very well planned out and executed. Alastor didn’t strike him as a crimes of passion in the heat of the moment type of guy. </p><p>“Indeed. Ah! Quick and diligent as always, my good fellow,” Alastor’s eye shone with a red gleam as the same waiter scurried back over to their table carrying a tray laden with a pot of tea, two china cups and a complicated looking wire cake stand filled with all kinds of treats. They set it down on the table and made a quick exist as Alastor waved them away. “May I?” He asked, gesturing to the cups. </p><p>“Sure,” Angel shrugged, suspecting he’d only drop it if he tried it himself so was more than happy to let Alastor play out his little tea ritual. He watched with interest as the demon poured the steaming liquid into the cup, placing his own in front of him black and looking at Angel with a questioning expression. “Am I correct in assuming you wish for milk and sugar?” He asked. </p><p>“Ya assume right,” Angel laughed, leaning to pick up some sugar tongs and happily dropping five cubes into his cup before pouring in some of the milk. Alastor did not do a good job of concealing his shock at just how sweet the spider demon was making his tea and actually shuddered when Angel picked it up to take a sip. “What’s wrong?” Angel snickered. “Think I’m sweet enough already?” </p><p>“My teeth are aching just looking at that concoction,” Alastor told him, taking a delicate sip of his black tea and sighting softly. Perfectly brewed, as always. He loved this charming little café, it was a stone’s throw away from the cannibal colony that ruled the southern end of the district and close enough to the good butchers in the area that he was able to make a stop on his way home should he ever wish to. </p><p>Angel put his cup down with a grin and reached towards the cake stand, his fingertips just brushing an éclair when he felt the sudden tap of a spoon on his knuckles. </p><p>“Ah, ah, start from the bottom and work up,” Alastor reprimanded with a teasing smirk, twirling the offending teaspoon in his fingers. “Savoury then sweet.” </p><p>Angel rubbed his abused hand and stuck his tongue out childishly, but took a sandwich none the less. If Alastor wanted to play out whatever this was a certain way then he was sure he could indulge him. He still couldn’t get a vibe off of him, though. At some points he seemed almost like his usual self, a bit cold and dismissive, but at other moments Angel could swear that the demon was flirting with him. Usually he could get a read on a guy’s intentions pretty early on in spending time with them, but Alastor was something else entirely. They shared out the delicate finger sandwiches between themselves, Alastor occasionally giving Angel a small lecture on the quality of the meat or the region that the cheese was from. Far from finding it pompous and over bearing, Angel actually found it quite charming. He knew Alastor was a bit of a foodie and liked to cook so it was really quite fascinating hearing him talk like this, to him cheese was just cheese but apparently there was a whole lot more to it. </p><p>“Now do we get to eat the cakes?” Angel asked once all the sandwiches were gone. He rested his chin on his hands and batted his eyelashes. </p><p>“Scone, then cake,” Alastor said with mock sternness before launching into an explanation about the difference between the Devonshire and the Cornish method of preparing a scone which had Angel in stitches over the ludicrous thought of people actually having a such strong opinions on whether the jam or the cream went on first. </p><p>“Ya got cream on your cheek, here, let me-“ Angel reached out to brush a bit of errant cream from the corner of Alastor’s mouth, reacting in surprise when Alastor’s hand shot up from his side to grip his wrist before he could. </p><p>“Sorry,” Alastor apologised instantly, letting go of Angel and resting his hands back on his lap. His eyes lowered and Angel felt the air around them get distinctly chillier despite the high afternoon sun. “Please do not do that so suddenly.” </p><p>“I… sorry, yeah,” Angel fidgeted in his seat. “Ya don’t like bein’ touched?” </p><p>“Not all the time,” Alastor admitted. “Sometimes it’s ok. I did not mind your arm resting on mine on the walk here, for example. I just do not like it coming out of nowhere.” </p><p>“That’s ok!” Angel reassured him, holding his hands up to show no ill will. “I get that. Sometimes I don’t want people puttin’ their hands all over me neither. I won’t touch ya again without checkin’, that cool?” </p><p>“Thank you,” Alastor sounded relieved and Angel was delighted to see that small shimmer of pink dance across the deer’s face for the briefest of moments just like it had done when he had accompanied him home the morning after his regrettable tryst with Valentino. “Well, it seems we are at the part of the meal you have been waiting so eagerly for,” he clapped his hands together, effectively closing the subject of touching for now. As his hands connected the cold aura that had been surrounding them vanished, allowing the sun’s rays to once more beat down on them. “Dig in, my dear.” </p><p>“Which do you want?” Angel asked. “You choose first.” </p><p>“Dear, no,” Alastor shook his head. “Cream scones are the sweetest thing I can stand. By all means keep the pastries and cakes all for yourself.” </p><p>“Everything?” Angel asked, not really needing to be told twice as he piled the sweet goods onto his plate and began to tuck in. “Man, I’m going to get so fat from this,” he laughed self-consciously as he stuffed his face. </p><p>“There’s hardly enough meat on you to feed a mouse,” Alastor scoffed. “I don’t think a few cakes should worry you.” </p><p>“Yeah, well some people don’t think like that,” Angel muttered, pausing in his pursuit of sugar. </p><p>“Some people are ignominious pieces of dirt,” Alastor replied bluntly, pushing the cake stand closer to Angel. “You may eat whatever you wish. I have never let people’s opinions of my dietary preferences stop me and nor should you.” </p><p>"Well, when ya put it like that…”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>For all you non-British readers out there, yes, Cornwall vs Devonshire method of preparing a scone is a very hot topic. As is how you pronounce the word 'scone' and what time tea should be taken at. I thought that, despite being a New Orleans boy, Alastor would like the very ritualistic way the Brits do tea. Plus it's an excuse to put Angel in cute dresses!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Fun on set</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Angel Dust leaves his date with Alastor to go to work, encountering yet more jealous demons</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I can't lie, I love writing Vox being a complete brat in this. </p>
<p>I also threw in some of my own personal interpretation of the geography of Hell, so enjoy that!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Well, I guess this is where we separate,” Angel commented as they got to a cross roads in the centre of the city. They’d left the café together and agreed to walk as much of the way back to the hotel as possible together before Angel had to split off to go to work. He hadn’t intended to go straight to work from their almost-date but they’d ended up talking so much once the food was gone that Angel had almost missed the tinkle of the alarm on his phone alerting him to the fact he needed to be getting ready for his shift. </p>
<p>“I suppose it is,” Alastor agreed, sounding a little glum at the prospect if Angel wasn’t mistaken. “Parting is such sweet sorrow.” </p>
<p>“That I shall say good night till it be morrow,” Angel completed with a small smirk, earning a delighted, if not slightly surprised, smile from Alastor. “What? Ya didn’t think I could read or somethin’?” He quipped.</p>
<p>“Not at all, my dear, I just did not expect to hear such quotations from yourself,” Alastor covered quickly, taking Angel’s hand and placing a very chase kiss over his knuckles, barely touching and only for the briefest of seconds. Angel held his hand in place, stunned by the gesture before brushing his hand through his hair and chuckling. </p>
<p>“Well, ya know, I aint never seen it or nothin’, I just think the words are nice is all.” He took his phone out of the purse he’d also borrowed from Charlie and checked the time again. “Rats, sorry, Smiles, I really have to book it.” He pushed his phone back into the purse and blew Alastor a kiss and a wink. “Don’t wait up for me,” he teased as he turned to make his way down the street towards the studio. </p>
<p>The studio wasn’t far from the middle of Pentagram City where each district of sin bordered on the five points of the quirky layout which gave the city its name. The only exceptions were the wastelands of Wrath which were deserted in the wilderness outside of the main city and the gold paved Pride Lands where Lucifer’s castle stood apart from the rest of the common denizens of Hell. Envy, Greed, Gluttony, Sloth and, of course, Lust were all connected and if you walked long enough and had your wits about you then you could theoretically cover all five without ever leaving the city. Angel hadn’t visited all of them, though he supposed he could now cross Gluttony off of his list. Valentino would sometimes boast about leaving the city to visit the Pride Lands and would always return with incredibly expensive gifts which often had every demon in the studio hanging off his arm in order to get a slice. </p>
<p>Angel made his way in through the back door of the studios, pulling his call sheet from the notice board on the way past without even really looking at it. It was all usually more of the same, just the costumes and set up differed slightly. He threw the sheet down onto his dressing table and hung up his purse, checking his phone once more for any messages before clicking open the camera and taking a quick selfie whilst his hair was still nice. It sure as hell wouldn’t look that good later, he knew. The photo also showed off the dress quite nicely too, even if he did say so himself. </p>
<p>“<em>Felt cute, might delete later IDK</em>” he typed, posting it to his Voxtagram. </p>
<p>"Where have you been?" He turned around at the sound of Valentino coming into the room and plastered a fake smile on his face, batting his eyelashes coyly. </p>
<p>“Just been out,” he told him. “I wanted to get here on time and spend some time makin’ myself look good.” </p>
<p>Val frowned as he eyed up what Angel was wearing, coming over and critically looking him up and down. He pinched some of the fabric of the skirt between his fingers, letting the soft fabric fall back and swish gently around Angel’s legs. “You look like shit,” he said eventually. “I sure as fuck hope nobody saw you wandering around looking like that.”</p>
<p>“What d’ya mean, boss?” Angel asked, doing a small twirl. “Don’t ya think it looks kinda cute?” </p>
<p>“You can barely see any of you,” Val snorted. “Aint nobody going to pay good money when you aint even advertising the goods. When you go out there you’re representing me, understand? You have an image to maintain and here you are dressing like some kind of choir girl. I could understand if it was a Lolita type gig but this is just gross. Where’d you even get it? Good will?” </p>
<p>“Charlie loaned me it,” Angel shrugged, moving past Valentino to sit at his dressing table to start on his make up. He wanted to make the most of his time before the shoot and he knew if he wasn’t ready in time Val would blame him rather than accept it was his fault for taking up his time trashing his choice of date dress.</p>
<p>“Yeah, like I said, good will,” Val laughed cruelly, stepping behind Angel and resting his hands on his shoulders. “I just want you to look sexy and get the attention you deserve, baby,” he purred, kissing the side of his neck, undeterred by the way Angel batted him away with his hand as he started to touch up his face to transform the subdued, au naturel make up look he’d gone with for his date into a more dramatic look for the camera. </p>
<p>“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’m a walkin’ billboard, I got it,” Angel rolled his eyes. He was pushing his luck, he knew that. Sometimes Val would laugh his sass off as him being cute but other times it was a major gamble over if the touchy moth demon would take something the wrong way. </p>
<p>“Exactly, babe,” Val gave his shoulder a small pat, seemingly in one of the moods where Angel’s backchat was acceptable. “Dress for the job you got.” </p>
<p>“Pretty sure it’s <em>dress for the job you want</em>, Val,” Angel corrected as he started to line his eyes. </p>
<p>“Whatever.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>o0o</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey, Val?” Vox asked, looking up from the feed on his phone and frowning. They were sitting on the edge of the set watching Angel and two other demons go at it on a sinfully huge bed. So far Vox had been able to block out all the fake moans and screams coming from all three of the performers by losing himself in his phone, but something was bugging him. </p>
<p>“Yeah?” Val, for his part, was doing the exact opposite and was completely engrossed in the scene playing out in front of them, occasionally calling out encouragement or instructing one of them to face a different way or straighten up. </p>
<p>“Why don’t you ever take me anywhere nice?” Vox shifted closer to him, tucking his phone away to give Val his full attention. “Like, we haven’t been on a date in ages.” </p>
<p>“Sure we have,” Val replied, his eyes still glued to the set. “We went to that restaurant didn’t we? With the oysters?” </p>
<p>“That was six months ago,” Vox pointed out. </p>
<p>“Was it?” Val didn’t sound very interested. “Huh. I guess it was, yeah. So?” </p>
<p>“Nothing, just thinking about stuff,” Vox shrugged. </p>
<p>“Ew, don’t do that. It doesn’t suit you,” Val leant over and gave Vox a quick kiss before standing up from the couch that was there both for performers to chill out on between takes or for Val and whoever he had with him to get a good view. The moth demon signalled to the camera man to stop rolling and stepped onto the set, giving his performers a rousing round of applause. “Good show, boys. Take 10 and then we’ll shoot the rest of it. If you can’t keep it up while you get a drink there’s some Blue on the sound desk you can take to keep going.” He threw a wink to Angel, “or Angie here can give you a quick hand job to get you back on top.” </p>
<p>Angel giggled and fanned himself with his hand. “Oh, you,” he tittered, going to grab a bottle of water before any of his co-stars even thought about taking him up on Val’s offer. He wasn’t some cheap dollar an hour fluffer hanging out on set to keep the newbies going. He took a bottle from the buffet set up in the studio and took a candy bar as well, the sugar would give him a nice burst of energy to keep him going. Since being at the hotel he hadn’t gone clean exactly, but he was trying to find different uppers than drugs and drink when he needed them- especially seen as the last time he’d gotten off his face he’d woken up with Val. He took a long swig of the water and set it down on the table, watching the other two demons still hanging out on the bed chatting. He remembered when he’d used to be that talkative with his co-stars, back when all of this was still new and exciting. Now he just turned up, did the job and went home. Porn was all well and good, but he was starting to find that he much preferred the dancing sets at the club. At least when he gave a lap dance to some John he could kid himself that at least one of them wasn’t faking it. </p>
<p>“Hey, Angel Dust!” </p>
<p>Angel looked up from his thoughts. “Yeah, Vox?” He asked, bored already with whatever shit the TV Demon was planning to pull. </p>
<p>“Velvet just texted,” Vox told him, coming over and showing him the message thread on his phone with a screen shot of the Voxtagram post that Angel had posted before coming down to set. “She likes that dress you had on.” </p>
<p>“Yeah? Tell her to throw a heart on the post, lasts longer,” Angel shrugged, tearing open the candy bar. </p>
<p>“She wants it.” </p>
<p>“Well, she can’t have it,” Angel told him. “It aint mine, it’s a loan.” </p>
<p>“So what? Velvet says she wants it,” Vox said smugly, looking over at Val. “Think your boss is going to be happy if you upset his little princess?” </p>
<p>“Oh, fuck you,” Angel rolled his eyes. “Go shove your dick in a plug socket. It might blow some sense into ya.” He flipped Vox off and stalked back over to the set, gulping down the rest of his water and tossing the bottle into the trash. Stretching his arms above his head he cracked some of the tension out of his shoulders and tried to summon the enthusiasm for shooting. </p>
<p>“Right everyone, listen up!” Val clapped his hands for attention a few minutes later after talking with Vox in the corner, coming into the foreground to speak to everybody. “Apparently Angel isn’t happy with how the shoot is going so we’re take it from the top.” </p>
<p>A collective groan echoed around the set. They’d already been at this for hours and now they had to start all over again. </p>
<p>“Gee, thanks a lot, Prima Donna,” one of the demons on the bed rolled his eyes. “I was supposed to be going out tonight!” </p>
<p>“Huh? But I didn’t-“ Angel caught sight of Vox smirking on the couch, stretched out on the cushions and holding up his phone with the message thread still showing. He clenched his fists by his side and bit down his frustration. “Yeah, we should shoot it again.” He wasn’t about to give the childish TV Demon and his Doll Demon pal the satisfaction of knowing he’d gotten to him, and he sure as Hell wasn’t going to give away Charlie’s dress for an easier life. She’d been so nervous about loaning him it in the first place that he didn’t know how he’d be able to face her if he didn’t give it back. She’d never trust him with anything again if he lost it. </p>
<p>Urgh, clearly this redemption bull shit was getting to him. </p>
<p>“Come on, big boys, from the top!” He grinned, jumping onto the bed and praying to Lucifer himself that they hadn’t run out of lube. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>o0o</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Husk, pour me a drink!” Angel ordered when he limped back into the hotel late that night. The bag he was carrying contained Charlie’s dress, unsullied and neatly folded up, along with Vaggie’s pink bow. Rather than getting changed in his rough state he’d just come back from the studio in what he’d been wearing on set, so presented himself at the bar in neon green hot pants and a fishnet top that left very little to the imagination. Hey, at least Val had gotten that free advertising he wanted. </p>
<p>“You look like shit,” the cat demon told him as he poured out a glass of gin for Angel, tactfully leaving the bottle right next to it and raising an eye brow as the spider shot the drink down in one and immediately refilled. </p>
<p>“Yer tellin’ me, pal,” Angel sighed, taking a steadier drink the second time round but still knocking back a considerable amount. “Long day.” </p>
<p>“I thought you were on your thing with Alastor?” Husk asked. “Not that I want you to tell me about it,” he added quickly. “I don’t need to know why you’re limpin’ after a date.” </p>
<p>“Urgh, I wish,” Angel snorted. “This is work, Husky baby. Al was a complete gentleman, more’s the pity.” </p>
<p>“Well, I can’t say I’m surprised about that,” Husk shrugged, pouring himself a drink and leaning on the bar. “Never figured him for the type to take anyone out on a date, let alone someone like… well, you.” </p>
<p>“Gee, I’m real flattered here,” Angel said dryly, swishing the drink around in his glass and finishing it off with another gulp. The burn felt good, and he could already feel himself relaxing from how wound up he was after retaking the whole damn movie thanks to Vox. The other two actors had made their annoyance quite well known and Angel wasn’t sure he was going to be back on form to work tomorrow thanks to the pounding he’d gotten. “What’s Al’s deal, anyway?” </p>
<p>“Deal?” </p>
<p>“Ya know, chicks, dudes, people in between,” Angel prompted. “What’s he into?” </p>
<p>“Until now I wouldn’t have said he was into anything,” Husker confessed. “In all the years I’ve known him he aint shown the slightest bit of interest in nobody unless it’s killin’ em.” </p>
<p>“Like, ever?” Angel clarified. He knew Alastor was probably inexperienced but he found it hard to believe a guy like Alastor who gave off such an intense creepy-sexy energy didn’t have a small army of gore loving groupies following him around. </p>
<p>“Nope. Nada,” Husker confirmed. “Not the dating type. Don’t even think he tied the knot or anythin’ when he was human. Lived with his mother right up until he died if I remember rightly what he told me one time.” <br/>“Huh. Well, the more ya know,” Angel mused, pushing the glass across the bar. “Thanks Husky, needed it.” </p>
<p>“Want some ice to go?” Husk smirked. </p>
<p>“Fuck off.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I can't believe this has reached over 100 kudos, thanks so much guys! I hope it continues to entertain. I still don't know how many chapters this will be, but the third act misunderstanding is coming up soon</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Somewhere over the rainbow</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Angel and Alastor bond and get closer, coming to a mutual understanding of sorts on their journey towards classifying whatever it is they are doing</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This was a strange chapter to write as on the one hand it felt like nothing was happening but then at the same time it's a conversation that they need to have at some point so... take this as a nice building block chapter that will be super relevant soon.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Just like he’d warned Charlie he would do, Angel spent the majority of the morning following his late night shoot fast asleep in bed, rousing himself only to feed Fat Nuggets their breakfast kibble and then fall straight back into his pillow covered bed until well into the afternoon. When he finally did make an appearance downstairs to scout out some coffee and what was technically breakfast he found Nifty in full swing prepping the kitchen for dinner. </p>
<p>“Mornin’, Short stack,” Angel yawned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes before commencing his ritual of digging out some of the instant coffee and dumping half a bag of sugar into it. </p>
<p>“It’s afternoon, Miss Angel Dust,” Nifty scolded good naturedly, zipping around him carrying pots and pans to the stove at a speed that made her a barely visible blur. That said, that could easily have just been Angel being still half asleep. He still felt absolutely beat after retaking the whole shoot again and the gin he’d gotten from Husk at the bar before turning in had given him one Hell of a headache. This abstinence stuff Charlie was trying to get him to try was really turning him into a light weight when he did chose to drink. Two gins, even Husker measures, wouldn’t have caused him a lick of trouble a few months ago. </p>
<p>“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Angel told her picking up his cup and dodging out of the way as she zoomed past him once more. “See ya at breakfast… dinner… whatever the hell ass time it is.” </p>
<p>He deposited himself in the lounge area that Charlie kept insisting on calling the ‘Family Room’ and propped his feet up on the coffee table, picking up the remote and flicking through Voxflix to try and find something to numb his brain with until dinner time. It was his day off, he didn’t plan on doing anything more energetic than moving from the sofa to the kitchen for more coffee and snacks for the rest of the day. </p>
<p>“That idiot box will rot your brain you know,” Alastor commented mildly from the doorway to the family room. Angel looked up from his browsing with a smile and gestured for the deer to come and join him. He scooted over to one side of the couch to make room and grinned when Alastor accepted without question. </p>
<p>“It aint all bad, Smiles,” he teased him. “I bet people thought the radio was an idiot box too when it first came out.” He scrolled further down the menu, halting when the box landed on a familiar documentary. “Oooh, hey, wanna see me at work?” He grinned, selecting the aptly titled <em>’A pornstar’s journey’</em> and getting ready to press play. </p>
<p>“Please, no,” Alastor said quickly, a shadowy tentacle spring up from underneath the couch to grasp the remote Angel was holding and depositing it smartly into Alastor’s waiting hand. He cancelled out the menu and placed the remote out of arm’s reach safely on the arm rest next to him. </p>
<p>“Ah, you’re no fun,” Angel sighed. “It aint got no porn in it, it’s all just a load of PR bullshit Val made me do about how great the studio is.” </p>
<p>“And is it?” Alastor asked. </p>
<p>“What? Great?” Angel scoffed. “It’s not all bad, I guess. I get to do some fun shoots and wear nice clothes, and sometimes the other guys aren’t bad lookin’ or nothin’. Plus it’s gettin’ paid to have sex and who could complain about that?” </p>
<p>“…Indeed.” At Alastor’s reply Angel remembered what Husk had said about the Radio Demon not showing any interest in people in the past. He turned his attention away from the lack of TV and tilted his head in curiosity, rather like he was trying to size Alastor up. </p>
<p>“Al?” He asked steadily. “D’ya not like this type of shit?” </p>
<p>“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Alastor replied, twinges of static bouncing around the small space and that same, cold aura starting to drift in that Angel had felt at the coffee shop after touching him. “It is not a topic I have ever felt the need to pursue.” </p>
<p>“But ya have sex, right?” Angel pushed, turning himself fully on the couch now so that he was properly facing Alastor, leaning forward slightly and closing the gap. “Yer not, ya know, a dead virgin or somethin’?” </p>
<p>“Angel Dust, please!” The static shot up a notch and Angel felt himself roughly pushed back by something, the shadows in the corners of the room seemingly starting to spike and slither across the carpet towards them both. Angel inched his feet up from the floor protectively and waved his hands at the coiling black tendrils that were starting to creep along the edges of the couch. </p>
<p>“I’m sorry!” He squeaked. “I didn’t mean to touch a nerve or anythin’. I just didn’t think, is all.” </p>
<p>Alastor looked at him suspiciously, the shadows seeming to sense his pause and receeding slightly as he let out a long, slow breath. “My apologies. I did not mean to react so harshly.” He dismissed the shadowy entities with a wave of his hand and all of a sudden light flooded back into the room as if nothing had happened. Angel let out a small shudder as the warmth came back and breathed a sigh of relief. </p>
<p>“Geez, that’s the biggest reaction I ever got to askin’ a guy about the big V card,” he laughed, trying to dispel the tension and getting another withering glare in reply. No shadows this time, though, so he took that as some sort of unspoken permission to press on. “I just aint never met anyone down here before that didn’t want to get it on.” Living in the Lust district for as long as Angel Dust had he had just started to equate sin and sex as one in the same and had naturally just assumed everyone who came down to Hell had some kind of deviant sexual preference. </p>
<p>“It has never come up before,” Alastor replied, sounding a lot calmer now that he seemed to have convinced himself that Angel wasn’t about to show him the vulgar documentary that had been on screen or ask him more uncomfortable questions. “I simply found other outlets for my particular wants and desires.” </p>
<p>“Like eatin’ people?” Angel asked bluntly. </p>
<p>“I suppose so,” Alastor shrugged. Just as Angel was never shy about his sexual activities, Alastor had never been one to be ashamed of the impulses that had caused him to fall down here. “Sexual intimacy has just never appealed. It all just seemed unnecessarily messy and close.” </p>
<p>“And cannibalising someone isn’t messy?” Angel snickered, unable to help the laughter that ensued following that particular comment. “Man, you and me sure have a different definition of a mess that’s for sure.” </p>
<p>“With the proper due care and attention one can keep quite clean with it all,” Alastor told him primly, but with the ghost of a smirk flicking across his ever present grin. “Why, my dear, if one strings up the meat and bleeds it well then you can get it all out without getting a single drop on yourself.” </p>
<p>“Heh… is that so?” Angel felt himself getting warmer as the other demon spoke. Imagining him stringing up a victim somewhere and bleeding them dry was conjuring up all sorts of mental images that he would have to process later. How could a sex averse cannibal make the idea of prepping a dead body for eating sound so hot? That was certainly one hell of a power. “Well, if ya ever want to bleed some meat dry with me, ya know where I am…” He rubbed his face and winced apologetically. “Sorry, force of habit. It just slips out sometimes.” </p>
<p>“Not a problem,” Alastor reassured him, surveying him with a small frown marring his otherwise wide and unrelenting grin. Keen to move the conversation to less confusing avenues he picked up the remote that he had so quickly relieved Angel of when he arrived and placed it down on the small coffee table that sat between them and the TV. “I believe you were wishing to rot your brain some on your day off,” he offered, gesturing to the set with his gloved hand. </p>
<p>“I was just gonna find a dumb movie to watch,” Angel shrugged, popping his feet back up on the table and scrolling back through the menu. “If you want it quiet I don’t have to.” </p>
<p>“No, no, by all means, you were here first,” Alastor told him, waving his hand casually to the left of him against a shadow on the wall and drawing a newspaper out of the small rift that appeared there. “You entertain yourself with your picture show and I shall simply enjoy your company whilst catching up on the goings on of our dear city.” </p>
<p>“Ya sure it won’t bug ya?” Angel asked sceptically. </p>
<p>“My dear, I shall likely barely notice it.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>o0o</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I just simply don’t understand why the wretched girl didn’t just take the magical footwear and take over the whole of the city!” Alastor huffed as the end credits rolled. “What on earth was of benefit to her toiling back home on that God forsaken farm when she could have had untapped magical power in the Green City?” </p>
<p>“Emerald City,” Angel corrected him with a chuckle. “And ya missin’ the point, Smiles. It aint a movie about gettin’ magical powers and shit it’s a story about findin’ happiness where ya already got it.” </p>
<p>“Well I still maintain she was very foolish indeed,” Alastor muttered. “She was handed a wonderful opportunity for power and she gave it up for a childish, idealistic notion of love. Utterly laughable.” </p>
<p>“I don’t think it’s that deep, Al,” Angel shook his head, stretching his arms out behind him and cracking each of his joints in turn. Alastor had tuned into the movie right about the time the witch had shown up, criticising Dorothy’s every move until the very end when she went back home. “Tell me you at least enjoyed the songs?” </p>
<p>“The melodies were indeed pleasant,” the radio demon reluctantly admitted. “I just take issue with the story, that is all.” </p>
<p>“Well, some of us like the idea of a sappy happy ending over having god-like power,” Angel teased him. “Come on, Nifty’ll be puttin’ dinner out soon and I already skipped breakfast.” He paused as he got up from the sofa, looking back over his shoulder at Alastor. “Ya know, Voxflix has loads of that old broadway stuff on if ya want to see more stories about people making bad life choices alongside catchy songs.” </p>
<p>“I would like that very much, Mon Ange.” </p>
<p>“What does that mean?” Angel cocked his head. “I don’t <em>parle la francais</em> like you do unless it’s one specific song.”</p>
<p>“Simply a term of endearment,” Alastor told him with a small smile. “Nothing to worry about. </p>
<p>“Ok then, <em>Cervo Mio</em>,” Angel smirked. </p>
<p>“And what does that mean?” </p>
<p>“Simply a term of endearment,” Angel mimicked cheekily, tossing his hair back and grinning. “Nothing to worry about.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>o0o</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What are you doing? Playing with your mother board again?” Valentino sighed, resting his hands on Vox’s shoulders from behind and leaning over to look at the screen. He frowned at the words there and scanned through. “You writin’ a story or something?” </p>
<p>“Just a script idea I had,” Vox replied distractedly, shrugging his shoulder back to try and dislodge Val’s grip on him and sighing in acceptance when that just made his boyfriend grip tighter. “Figured I should try my hand at writing rather than just editing.” His fingers glided across the keyboard as he focused intently on his work, scanning back through audio that he’d converted into text files in his internal server for inspiration. </p>
<p>“You alright? Your face has gone funny,” Val commented. “Funnier, anyway.” </p>
<p>“Ssh, I’m looking for something,” Vox hushed him, a loading circle flashing up on his screen as he frantically shifted through everything he had. He knew it was all in here somewhere, he’d just mapped it all a few hours ago. Sometimes his head was such a chaotic place it was hard to keep his thoughts and files in order. It was harder when Val was around too, Val made everything harder sometimes. A flash danced across his screen as he found what he was looking for, opening up the document and sending it to the screen on his desktop instead. </p>
<p>“You know, it’s really fucking creepy when you just space out like that and start throwing digital shit around the place,” Val told him, straightening up and moving well out of the way of his boyfriend’s freaky techo-magic. He didn’t pretend to understand how his boyfriend worked, he only cared about the bits that were useful to him right here and now. All the weird codes and jargon that made up what he supposed was his brain was like a completely foreign language to him. He’d never met anyone like Vox and wasn’t sure he ever would again. </p>
<p>“You don’t complain when I play back what we do in the bedroom on the big screen in the lounge,” Vox pointed out with a cheeky grin, flashing some more jumbled code across his screen before text started to appear in plain English on the desktop. “I’m not saying that isn’t fun or anything, but I <em>am</em> useful at other things, you know. Take a look.” </p>
<p>As Val came closer and started to read the words his technological wonder of a boyfriend had thrown up his smile began to widen into a big, sadistic grin. </p>
<p>“Oh, Voxxy… have I told you recently how much I love you?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So the fact they were watching The Wizard of Oz is a small homage to Xingshou's fic "Life's a journey, but family's a trip" which you should all go and read and give kudos to because it's genuinely hilarious and touching.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Deer season</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Vox has been working hard writing his first ever script for the studio, it's just a pity that one of the stars isn't too happy with the end result.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Buckle up, kids.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Alastor?” </p>
<p>“Yes, Mon Ange?” Alastor looked up from the newspaper he was surveying to see Angel Dust turning to look at him with what he could only describe as worry on his features. He’d spent hours that morning carefully doing his make-up and styling his fur, a habit that Alastor had slowly come to associate with the pink spider demon feeling nervous about something. “What is troubling you?” He set the newspaper down on his lap to give Angel his full attention.</p>
<p>“What… are we?” Angel asked, biting his pink painted bottom lip and frowning softly, unsure if he should be asking and more than a little scared of what the answer would be. They’d gone so well these past few weeks not putting a label on anything or broaching the subject and Angel was worried he was starting to misinterpret things. </p>
<p>“Well,” Alastor tapped his chin thoughtfully. “We are spending time together and enjoying recreational activities as a pair. I think the technical term for that is courting.” </p>
<p>“Right,” Angel let out a shaking breathe that he hadn’t noticed he’d been holding in anticipation of the deer’s answer and laughed in relief. “Well, when ya put it like that I guess we are courtin’. Not the word I’d use, obviously, but… are ya ok with that? With… courtin’ me?” </p>
<p>“My dear, I wouldn’t have continued the pursuit if it had not had my full enthusiasm,” Alastor told him matter-of-factly, rolling up the newspaper on his lap and rapping Angel smartly on the knee with it, smirking as the other demon giggled and batted him away. “Has that what’s been keeping you so quiet these past few days? Quiet<em>er</em> I should say.” </p>
<p>“I suppose so,” Angel confessed. “What with work and this redemption stuff with Charlie I aint had much time to sit and talk to ya about it all. I guess I was just worrin’ about it. Then Husky said ya didn’t really do this type of thing and you said ya weren’t interested in, ya know, relations with anyone and I dunno. I guess this is all kinda new. I aint been with nobody like that since I got down here, since-“ he trailed off, brushing his fingers through his hair and turning his gaze to the wall. “Since Val.” </p>
<p>Alastor hummed softly in thought, twisting the newspaper in his hands. He’d be lying if he didn’t say that the more physical side of this courtship had been concerning him a little. Angel Dust wasn’t the only one who had been bouncing relationship worries off of the poor bar tender in the hotel over a drink. </p>
<p>“I’m not Valentino,” he said eventually. “I won’t do any of the things that creature did to you. I can assure you of that.” </p>
<p>Angel had never told him the extent of what he went through at the studios or what life had been like before the hotel. Some part of him didn’t want to admit to Alastor that he’d been so young and stupid back then and taken in by the first guy who showed an ounce of kindness to him. He didn’t want to see judgement in the radio demons eyes if he told him that he’d gone and signed his life away because of something as dumb as money and nice clothes. Valentino had really done a number on him when he was newly dead, passing off beautiful, expensive trinkets as gifts and rewards when really he’d been keeping a tab on everything right down to the last cent. Getting trapped in a soul debt because of his own lust for pretty things had made him feel like the stupidest thing in the whole nine circles and he just couldn’t tell Alastor any of it. </p>
<p>“And ya don’t mind me workin’?” He asked cautiously. He knew plenty of the demons who worked at the studio had a partner or partners somewhere, but most of them were in the industry too. He didn’t know many who were dating what they called a ‘civ’ in the business. </p>
<p>“If your job brings you joy then who am I to stop you doing it?” Alastor told him plainly. “Would you ask me to give up my work?” </p>
<p>“Nah, of course not,” Angel smirked. “What would I listen to on my breaks at work if ya weren’t broadcasting your gore shit?” </p>
<p>“Exactly. We both have needs that cannot exactly be satisfied by the other and we can find an outlet for those needs in our work,” Alastor explained pragmatically, smoothing out the newspaper once more and opening it back up on the page he’d finished up on. “You can satisfy your carnal requirements at the studio, and I can satisfy mine in <em>my</em> studio.” </p>
<p>“I guess it sounds pretty straight forward when ya say it like that,” Angel blinked. “I kinda expected, I dunno, more of a… fight?” Nothing had ever been easy with Val, every decision turning into an emotional outburst that Angel had to back down on to keep the peace. Having someone be so, well, calm about the whole thing was a little bit unnerving. </p>
<p>“Mon Ange, I did not get where I am today through unnecessary bouts of emotion. If it is meant to be we shall find a way to make it work. I promise. Now,” he fanned the paper and lifted it up to his gaze. “Continue watching your picture show about the ice princess who I hope will eventually come to her senses and freeze the kingdom for all eternity unless they bow down to her.” </p>
<p>“Yeah… maybe ya should just keep focusin’ on the paper,” Angel smirked. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>o0o</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I gotta go to work, Cervo Mio,” Angel told him as the end credits rolled. It was mid-afternoon and pretty early by his usual shooting standards but Valentino had said this one would take longer to film for some reason so he wanted Angel and his co-star there nice and early. </p>
<p>“Would you like me to take you there?” Alastor offered, looking up from the paper. “If you are planning to walk there in those ridiculous shoes you own I could take the burden off for you.” </p>
<p>“I will be going in my comfy shoes,” Angel reassured him with a laugh, stretching his arms as he stood up. “How’d you get me there? You got a ride I don’t know about?” </p>
<p>“Yes,” Alastor admitted. “But that isn’t what I was thinking of.” He stood up and cracked his knuckles, static filling the air as he held his arms out in front of him and murmured under his breath. Angel instinctively stepped back a pace to give him room and watched as an inky black portal opened up in the middle of the room. He tentatively poked at it with his finger tip, looking at Alastor for confirmation. </p>
<p>“It is quite safe,” the demon told him, his eyes rotating at an unnatural angle to form the radio dials that Angel had only seen once or twice before. “After you, my dear. Step inside.” </p>
<p>Angel stepped into the shadowy rift, shuddering at the cloying sensation like walking through slime that coated his whole body for a few seconds before he stepped out on the other side. He blinked in confusion, looking up at the entrance to porn studios. Alastor appeared behind him moments later and patted him on the shoulder to alert him to his presence. </p>
<p>“Isn’t that so much better than walking?” He asked with a grin, seemingly oblivious to the uncomfortable feeling Angel had felt walking through the thing. “Have a nice day at work, Mon Ange.” He leant forward and planted a small kiss on Angel’s cheek, disappearing back into the void before the spider had time to turn and react. </p>
<p>Angel stood on the pavement with his hand touching the spot that Alastor’s lips had ghosted over, smiling to himself as he made his way up through the main doors and to the set. He passed a few demons he knew messing with some lights over the set and murmured a small hello as he passed to his dressing room, picking up the call sheet on his way past and glancing over the title printed on the script. </p>
<p>“Deer season?” He read out loud. He must be doing a scene with a Buck or something then, he guessed. He started to thumb through the script as he got into his room, dropping down onto the sofa to read it in more detail before getting ready. This must have been why Val wanted them here early, he didn’t usually have any lines to learn so this time was probably for getting his head around them. Usually the moth demon just gave them an idea of his vision and told them to get at it. People didn’t pay for porn to hear what you were saying, he’d always tell them; they paid to see what you were doing with your body. This was almost like real acting with proper words and everything, Angel thought with a chuckle. </p>
<p>As he read further into the script he began to frown, a tight sensation forming in his chest as he started to sweat. It felt like he couldn’t breathe, like a vice was squeezing the air out of him. His mouth fell open in horror and after just a few lines he started to feel anger welling up inside of him. This was completely wrong, it couldn’t be happening. </p>
<p>Screwing the script up in his hands he got up from the sofa and made his way down the long corridor back to the main floor of the studio, throwing the script down on the nearest table and standing with his hands on his hips, glaring at the assembled crowd of demons who made up the studio crew. </p>
<p>“Alright, ‘fess up,” He said loudly. “Who wrote this shit?” The hands of his upper arms clenched into fists, his teeth set in a fierce ground. “Own up before I start breakin’ faces.” </p>
<p>“Angel, baby, you’re being awfully loud for someone who should be saving their voice,” Val’s words floated up behind him, the moth demon taking his wrists in his hand and turning him round to face him, tracing a clawed finger down the side of his face. “Don’t frown so much, babe, you’ll get wrinkles.” </p>
<p>“Cut the shit, Val,” Angel hissed, jerking his face away and pulling his wrists free of Val’s grasp. “Who wrote that fucking script?” </p>
<p>“What? You don’t like it?” Val asked innocently, taking some smokes out of his pocket and drawing one out, tapping the end on the box before lighting it up and taking a long, slow drag. Red smoke started to curl up from the tip, falling from the corners of his mouth too as he spoke. “Thought you were always sayin’ you wanted to do more serious acting.”</p>
<p>“This is seriously fucked up, even for you,” Angel growled. “Writin’ some trashy porno about an angel training hotel and sticking a deer demon in there? You think I’m genuinely going to do that shit? Well, you got another thing comin’, Mista.” </p>
<p>Val shrugged like they were having a perfectly calm discussion, tapping some ash from his cigarette and watching as the smoke trailed up, circling his hand a fraction and sending a thin sliver out towards Angel. “I was under the impression you did as you were told.” The red wisp grew as it approached Angel, snaking around his neck and tilting his head up sharply. “We agreed that silly little hotel wouldn’t get in the way of your work, Angel cakes. My Voxxy worked hard writing this especially for you, so stop being a little bitch and do your job,” He ordered, flexing his fingers and causing the smoke to tighten around Angel’s throat. </p>
<p>“This is different,” Angel choked, glaring defiantly up at him even as the smoke acted like a lead and pulled him closer to the moth, dragging him so he was practically chest to chest with the taller demon. He placed his hands on the fur of Val’s coat, gripping the fabric to steady himself. “I aint doing it.” </p>
<p>“Ssh, you’re doing that thing where your mouth moves and sound comes out,” Val told him. “You know I don’t like it when you do that when you’re not supposed to.” He eased Angel’s hands away from his coat and let more of the demonic smoke filter towards the spider, locking all four of his wrists out of harm’s way. “Funny thing about soul bonds, Angel. Ya gotta honour them or it gets… messy.” </p>
<p>“Ya think Lucifer will like ya both takin’ the piss out of his daughter’s little passion project?” Angel tried, panic growing a little as the smoke started to feel almost solid around him, spiralling up his arms and holding him firmly in place. “You two gonna to risk upsetting the daughter of the King of Hell? The ruler of Pride?” </p>
<p>“Please, all the Greats know their power comes at the risk of being the subject of a bit of light satire, besides Lucifer hates the damn place,” Val sneered, cupping Angel’s chin and tilting his head back towards him. He took another drag, breathing out the smoke so that it danced over Angel’s face, teasing along his cheeks and curling towards his mouth and nose. “Ah, ah, don’t hold your breath, baby.” </p>
<p>Angel screwed his eyes shut and shook his head as best he could. He couldn’t do that to Alastor. Not after everything the demon had said to him. He couldn’t let Val throw out some porn of him fucking the radio demon in a sleazy hotel room, not after everything Al had done for him. He felt the smoke sting at his eyes, tears welling up in the corners. </p>
<p>“Aw, don’t cry, sweetie,” Val soothed him, pressing his nail into the side of his cheek to force him to open his mouth. “Just take a nice, deep breath for Daddy and you won’t feel so nervous anymore. I know it’s hard, baby, it’s scary when you have to do something different. But you’ll love it, I swear. You’ll have so much fun fucking that little deer over there for me, won’t you?” </p>
<p>“No, I-“ Angel gasped at the sharp pain in his cheek, sucking in a lungful of the smoke and feeling a wave of dizziness pass over him. He blinked in confusion, the pinks of his eyes glossing over in a deep red as a lazy smile crept onto his face. “<em>What did you say, Daddy?</em>”</p>
<p>“That’s my boy.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Remember that tag that says "I wrote it so you know it's going to be a hurt fest" ? Yeah, that part is starting now.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Voodoo, hoodoo and things I've never tried</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Memory is a funny little thing, and sometimes it's best to just forget when you can.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>There's a little bit of NSFW at the start of this chapter but it isn't explicit and is not of a graphic nature.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Angel smiled softly as he relaxed into Valentino’s grip, bringing his lower arms up to stroke along his coat, arching his body up against the moth and tilting his head towards him for a kiss. </p><p>“That’s better, Angel cakes,” Val purred, stroking Angel’s cheek with a loving tenderness. “I knew you’d get it.” He turned Angel around to face the set, running his hands down his sides and grinning devilishly as the spider pressed himself back against him, moaning softly and quietly begging for attention. “Now… you gonna go do your scene for Daddy?” </p><p>“Yes, Mista Valentino,” Angel drawled lazily, swaying in his grasp, his eyes glowing red with desire. He clenched and unclenched his fists, hands working down his front and stroking through his fur. He stumbled as Val pushed him forward, catching himself on the bed with his arms out stretched. Pulling himself up he crawled across the sheets to the deer demon who was perched ready, an eager grin on his face. Angel stroked one hand up along his leg before reaching out to grasp him at the hips and pull him towards him. Hungrily, he began to kiss him, hands exploring every inch of the demon and pushing him down onto the pillows. </p><p>“Start rolling,” Val ordered the imp stationed behind the camera, snapping his fingers for silence on set as he watched the scene unfold. A red haze surrounded him as a seemingly unending stream of the red smoke issued from the cigarette in his fingers, pausing every once in a while to take another drag to add his perverse brand of demon magic flowing across the set towards Angel. Being an Overlord of Lust sure had its perks sometimes. </p><p>“What if someone catches us?” Angel said to the deer, the lines from the script somehow present in his mind even though he was sure he hadn’t read them properly earlier. </p><p>“My dear Angel Dust,” the deer purred, his accent a perfect imitation. “I guarantee no one will disturb us.” </p><p>“Never pegged ya for the sort of guy who would be into this shit…” </p><p>“It has never come up before, I simply found other outlets for my particular wants and desires.” The deer pulled Angel closer so the spider was flush against him, working at removing his clothes and coaxing him to help him out of his. “Dig in, my dear.” </p><p>“Don’t mind if I do, Cervo Mio.” Driven by the drug racing through his system Angel roughly shoved the deer down onto the bed, flipping him over and running his hands along his back, causing the other to arch and moan. </p><p>From across the set, Valentino sat back and grinned. He hadn’t thought Vox had it in him to write something like this. Sure, the TV demon was one smart cookie when it came to technology and admittedly he could be kinky as fuck when it came down to it, but Val had never really suspected he had the imagination to plan out something this detailed and intense. Every time they were together it was always Valentino taking the lead and Vox eagerly following suit, doing whatever the moth decided would be fun. He took a long drag of his cigarette, holding his phone up to shoot a quick video alongside the camera man as the deer howled in ecstasy when Angel started to pound into him. </p><p>People would eat this up, he knew they would. Angel was a fantastic little submissive, but seeing him now, completely owning the mewling Buck underneath him on set, Valentino had to admit he was impressed. Angel had been right, it was risky that Vox had written something so bitingly satirical about not only the silly little hotel that Lucifer’s princess owned but also the great radio demon himself, but the profit he would no doubt make from all this far out-weighed the risk, he decided. </p><p>The scene came to its rousing conclusion and the pair fell into a heap on top of each other, panting for breath and still touching and pawing at each other even as Val called for a cut. He stubbed out the cigarette and waved away the last few tendrils of smoke, grinning as Angel suddenly pulled away from the deer and blinked in confusion. </p><p>“Hey, uh, aren’t we gonna start shooting?” He asked shakily, looking around at the strewn about clothes all over the floor and bed and blinking in confusion. He brought a hand to his head and rubbed it, feeling dizzy all of a sudden. “Hey, boss? I don’t feel too good…” </p><p>“That’s ok, Angie baby,” Val cooed, dismissing everyone with a wave of his hand and prowling over to the bed. “Go home, Bambi,” he said to the deer demon who nodded quickly and high tailed it off the bed, grabbing his clothes from the floor on the way past. This had been a big break for him, shooting with <em>the</em> Angel Dust- he wasn’t about to mess up his chances by upsetting the boss. </p><p>“I feel kinda sleepy,” Angel mumbled, reaching out towards Val and catching himself in his arms. Everything was swimming in his vision. Weren’t they meant to be filming something? Had he spaced out or something? </p><p>“You did great, baby,” Val reassured him, gathering him up in his arms and stroking his hair. “Let Daddy get you all dressed up and back to the hotel where you belong.” </p><p>“You’re so good to me, Daddy,” Angel told him, holding his arms up obediently as Val started to pull his shirt back onto him and move on to slipping the tight mini skirt he’d arrived in back over his legs. His fingertips lingered on the fur of his feet as he buckled his shoes back on, patting his hip when he was done and encouraging him to stand. </p><p>“Come on, hop to it,” he told him with a sharp slap to his behind to encourage the spider demon to walk. He seemed to be coming around a little now, less bleary eyed and shaky than he had been a moment ago. “Car’s outside.”</p><p> </p><p>o0o</p><p> </p><p>Angel stared out of the window in the limo ride through the city, counting the droplets from the rain as they ran down the window with a mounting sense of dread eating away at his chest. He was still piecing together what had happened, blurry memories coming in through the cracks and making a jumbled mess that he couldn’t make sense of. The limo went over a speed bump, causing him to jerk in his seat and bump his head against the glass. Hissing softly in pain he leant back away from the window and rubbed his head, looking at Valentino out the corner of his eye texting on his phone. </p><p>“Boss?” He asked tentatively. “What happened back there?” He hadn’t felt this nervous about a shoot since his first time in the studio. That felt like a distant memory now and ever since his disaster of a first movie he’d vowed never to feel so out of control and scared about a job again. Now he felt newly dead all over again, confused and out of his depth with what had just happened. He remembered shouting at Val about the script and then after that there was nothing, just red flashes and the feeling of almost unbearable desire the smoke had caused him. He couldn’t even remember what it was that had made him so angry. </p><p>“You did great, Angel,” Val told him, not looking up from his phone. “Don’t worry ‘bout it. You’ll see it tomorrow when it comes out.” </p><p>“But I don’t-“ </p><p>“Please, sweetie, you’re being really annoying, so just zip it, ok?” Val told him, going back to his far more interesting chat thread with Vox. He’d sent the TV demon the short, amateur clip he’d filmed during the set and, if the messages were anything to go by, his boyfriend was absolutely over the moon with him. The sooner he could get Angel out of his hair and back to the hotel, the sooner he could enjoy just how grateful his lover was for bringing his vison to life. He didn’t really get Vox’s obsession over the radio demon, but seen as it was currently benefitting him so much right now he wasn’t going to complain about it. </p><p>Angel just kept quiet in the seat next to him, not trying to get his attention again and simply focusing on the nagging feeling growing in his stomach. He’d have thought after years of over indulgence in illicit substances he’d be used to blank patches in his memory, but now he was here with no obvious cause for it he was concerned. </p><p>“This is your stop, sugar,” Val looked up when the car pulled to a stop. “Go get some beauty sleep. I want you in the club at 6 til closing tomorrow. Understand?” </p><p>“Yes, Sir,” Angel nodded, pulling himself from the car before Val had time to try and say goodbye to him the way he usually did. He turned back to half-heartedly wave at the limo but it was already speeding off the second he closed the door behind him. He shrugged to himself and made his way up the steps to the hotel, pushing the door open and making a beeline for the bar where Husk sat with his usual bottle of cheap whisky already on the go. He could still hear the rain pattering on the glass after he closed the door. </p><p>“Evenin’, kitty cat,” Angel greeted him, trying to summon up his usual charm but falling short. </p><p>“What’s up with you, kid?” Husk grunted, already picking out a glass and pouring something bright and pink into it to push towards the spider demon as he sat down on one of the stools. </p><p>"Just... weird night filmin’ is all,” Angel shrugged, taking the drink and downing it in one. “I kinda spaced out and don’t really know what happened.” </p><p>“Aint that normal for you?” Husk scoffed, topping up the drink without being asked. Kid sounded like he needed at least a couple of drinks. He looked absolutely beat. </p><p>“Yeah but usually I know why it happened,” Angel replied, still frowning even as he took the drink. “Just weird is all. Val seemed pretty happy about it all and that just kinda makes me worry more, ya know? If he’s happy about something it aint usually good.” </p><p>“Well, have you talked to Alastor about it?” </p><p>“Why?” Angel blinked, swirling the liquid in the glass and taking another deep sip of it. “What’s he gotta do with me blankin’ out?” </p><p>“Nothin’, dumbass,” Husk rolled his eyes. “But your honey is a serious magic user, duh. He can probably magic your memory back no problem. Never seems to get hangovers, that’s for sure, so he’s got some brain fixin’ hoodoo shit going on up there.” </p><p>“Huh. Guess I never thought of that,” Angel mused. Something was nagging at him that he couldn’t quite put his finger on, something to do with Alastor, but he couldn’t bring it to mind. He was probably just thinking about the fact he’d apparently just done a whole scene with a deer. That was the first deer demon he’d seen apart from Alastor down here so he was probably just drawing similarities. “What’s the worst that could happen, eh?” </p><p>“That’s the spirit,” Husk said dryly, taking the now empty glass from Angel and placing it in the small sink behind the bar. Nifty would no doubt zoom by and clean it up later in the blink of an eye. “Have fun.” </p><p>“Always do, kitty.” </p><p> </p><p>o0o</p><p> </p><p>“So, that’s the problem,” Angel finished up, shuffling in his seat and looking around at all the curious things in Al’s office. This was the first time he’d properly been in the place and he had to admit some of the weird curios on the walls were freaking him out. He was 99% certain that one of the pictures on the wall was painted entirely in blood and that some of the leather bound books on the shelf weren’t your usual kind of hide. Some of them had scales. </p><p>“That is quite the predicament, Mon Ange,” Alastor agreed, steepling his fingers and resting his elbows on the desk. “Though I admit I assumed you would be used to lapses in memory considering your pastimes.” </p><p>“Why does everyone keep sayin’ that?” Angel sighed. “Can ya help me or not, Smiles? It’s really fuckin’ freaky. That smoke o’ Val’s don’t normally make me space out that much. I aint never forgotten that much before.” </p><p>“I do know a few spells that could help you recover lost memories,” Alastor admitted, standing up from his place behind the desk and striding over to the bookcase, taking a small wooden box from the shelf and taking out an orange candle. “Hold this, dear one,” he said to him, holding it out as he returned the box to its place. </p><p>“You don’t just chant some mumbo jumbo and bibbidi bobbidi boo my memory back?” Angel asked, taking the candle anyway and looking at it sceptically. It just looked like a regular old candle to him, nothing particularly magical about it. </p><p>“No, I cannot just bibbidi b-… whatever it is you just said your memory back,” Alastor replied, fighting the urge to roll his eyes at how easily Angel Dust reduced the sacred art to little more than nonsense chanting. “Rub this on it,” he instructed, handing Angel a small glass vial. </p><p>“Right, so I rub oil onto the orange phallic thing? Cool, just like work then,” Angel smirked, dispensing some oil into his hand and smelling it. “The fuck is that?” </p><p>“Rosemary oil,” Alastor told him. “It stimulates the memory. Anoint the candle please.” </p><p>“Like this?” Angel asked, rubbing his hand up and down the candle slowly and twisting it round. </p><p>“…yes, that will do it,” The deer demon sighed. “Now hold it straight.” He focused on the candle wick and snapped his fingers, igniting it and staring at the flame. “Focus on the flame, Mon Petit, and think about what was happening in the run up to your memory disappearing.” He began to whisper something under his breath in a language Angel didn’t understand, catching a few words that sounded sort of French but in an accent he couldn’t place. He kept his eyes focused on the candle, trying to picture exactly what he was doing before he started to feel so spaced out. </p><p>“When will it work?” He asked. “I don’t feel any- whoa!” His eyes widened as he suddenly began to see a scene playing out in his mind’s eye as clear as if it was a video on a TV screen of him atop a svelte deer demon in a red coat. He gasped as the memories started flooding back to him, letting go of the candle and sending it dropping towards the floor. </p><p>“Angel!” Alastor shot out a shadowy tendril to catch the candle before it hit the rug and set it alight, the flame still burning proudly on the wick. “What on earth is the-“ Static flooded into the room as Alastor’s eyes gilded over with a sickly black glow, extinguishing the candle and snapping it in two with the shadows. </p><p>“Al, what’s wrong?” Angel asked. “Oh, shit did you see… did you see what I saw?” His hands flew up to his mouth in shock. “Honest I swear I didn’t know what was going on!”</p><p>“Get out.” </p><p>“Really, Cervo Mio, ya gotta believe me! It wasn’t… it’s not what it…” </p><p>“GET OUT!”</p><p>A coil of pure black energy fired out from Alastor towards Angel’s chest, sending him flying back across the room and into the door. He hit the ground with a thud, gathering himself quickly and wrenching the door open. He sprinted out of the room as fast as he could, not stopping until he got to his room where he slammed his door shut and threw himself onto the bed. </p><p>Fat Nuggets tentatively climbed out of his basket, crouching down low and oinking gently at Angel. </p><p>“Oh, Nuggs, Mama fucked up,” Angel told him, tears stinging his eyes as he reached over to pick him up and cuddle him close. “Mama fucked up real good.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I researched hoodoo memory spells to make sure Alastor was using the right candles and oils, I figured it was only respectful to real life practitioners to put at least a touch of realism into hoodoo magic in this story.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Third act misunderstanding</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The story is reaching its crux with Alastor refusing to talk to Angel or even admit what he is so upset about, leaving our resident spider lost and confused.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for the delay with this! Christmas, ya know? I hope this angst laden dose of Vox being an evil asshole was worth the wait.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The following days passed in an uncomfortable blur. No matter how many times Angel tried to talk to Alastor, the demon either magicked himself away in a veil of shadows or just flat out ignored him. Angel Dust was nothing if not tenacious, however, and after a full week of silent treatment he managed to confront the deer when he got in from a shift late one afternoon.</p><p>Alastor started to do his usual trick of simply walking straight past him until Angel placed himself between him and the staircase, spreading his arms out wide to block the radio demon’s path. Much to his surprise the other didn’t immediately do his usual disappearing act like he had done the last hundred and one times Angel Dust had tried to stop him walking away. Instead, he simply stood facing him with his arms folded, tapping one foot rhythmically on the floor. </p><p>“Angel Dust, I am very drained from my last broadcast and would really appreciate you removing your person from my way,” he said bluntly, the radio static lacing over his words with a soft hum that threatened to heighten the longer he stood there waiting. </p><p>“Alastor, Al, ya gotta listen to me,” Angel insisted. “I already told ya I didn’t remember a thing. Do ya really think I’d let Val shoot somethin’ like that if I knew about it?” </p><p>“You have said the same thing so many times that you are beginning to sound like a broken record,” Alastor told him simply. “Whilst I am indeed a fan of the classics I do beg you to change your tune. It’s becoming tiresome.” </p><p>“But I don’t know what else to say!” Angel threw his hands up in exasperation, wringing his lower set of hands and wishing that he didn’t sound so goddamn pathetic. It wasn’t like he hadn’t broken up with guys before, he’d had plenty of cuties who had stuck around for a week or two and then bailed when it got serious, but something about Alastor not wanting to talk to him was cutting him deeper than he’d ever felt before. This was a million times worse than when he’d found out Val was such a jerk. He’d genuinely thought that Alastor had cared and now they’d hit one little road bump and suddenly it was all ‘hey nice knowing ya’. </p><p>“Then try harder,” Alastor snapped, brushing past him now that his arms weren’t blocking his path to the stairs. “I’m not here to educate you.” </p><p>“How many other ways can I say that I didn’t know?” Angel pleaded, his fists dropping uselessly by his side. “I know it was awful, trust me gettin’ that memory back was the worst I ever felt. I know you feel violated and that ya trusted me tellin’ me all that stuff about not likin’ touchin’ and everythin’. Ya really think I’d do that on purpose?” </p><p>Alastor paused in his journey up the stairs and slowly turned to look at Angel, his neck cracking unnaturally as he tilted to look at him. </p><p>“You think I’m mad because you were in some silly little moving picture that mocked me?” He asked slowly. </p><p>“I…” Angel faltered, looking up at him in confusion. “Then… what?” </p><p>“Watch your foolish little talkie again and see if anything comes to mind,” Alastor sneered, turning his back on him and carrying on up the stairs. “As I said, I am not here to educate you.” </p><p> </p><p>o0o</p><p> </p><p>“I’d say he was being childish if it didn’t cut me up so damn much,” Angel confessed, stabbing despondently at the cherry in the colourful, layered cocktail that Husk had made for him without him even having to beg him to. Usually the feline tender flat out refused to make what he referred to as ‘Angel’s fruity ass drinks’ but tonight it had come across the bar, no questions asked, the moment he’d sat down. </p><p>“He aint normally like this over stuff,” Husk told him, wiping down the counter top and tossing a few peanuts from the small glass bowl perched on the edge to Fat Nuggets, who was snuffling around the back of the bar in search of more of the glacé cherries he liked so much. “It’s weird as shit.” </p><p>“That’s one way of putting it,” Angel sighed, taking the cherry off of the cocktail stick and gently throwing it towards his pig, smiling a little as the hell creature trotted happily across the floor to catch it. “I’ve been tryin’ to tell him over and over that I didn’t know what was goin’ on and he aint listenin’ to me. Guess it serves me right for thinkin’ I could find a decent guy.” He chugged down some of the cocktail and slammed the glass back down on the bar. “I just wish he’d tell me what was really eatin’ at him. If it aint the dumb porno then what is it?” </p><p>“Well I aint watched it so beats me,” Husk shrugged. “I see enough of your damn ass in the lobby without goin’ through a paywall to see more of it.” </p><p>“Aw, kitty cat, and here I thought ya cared,” Angel smirked. “I should book it, I got another shift in an hour. I’ll worry about the minds of stupid deer demons when I get home.” </p><p>“You’re workin’ again? Didn’t you only get in a few hours ago?” Husk frowned. The kid seemed to be working all out this past week, barely staying in the hotel long enough to shower and feed his pig before going back out again. He hadn’t even finished the drink in front of him. </p><p>“What can I say?” Angel grinned, putting on a brave face. “I got the best job in Hell.” </p><p> </p><p>o0o</p><p> </p><p>As always the club was pounding with energy and Angel made his way straight to the bar for a line of shots to get himself ready for the night ahead. The tender wasn’t as cute as Husk, in his opinion, but he was nice enough and never charged for the drinks as long as Angel slipped him a tip or two during the night to encourage him to keep the clients who were just a bit too creepy away. He shot back three glasses of electric blue liquid in quick succession and smacked his lips appreciatively, already feeling a bit of a buzz. Whatever the booze was in this place it sure did a good job of blurring the edges. </p><p>Dancing was what he lived for. As a human there’d been so many rules and restrictions to live by, stopping him just letting loose and doing what he wanted. Everything was about appearances and reputation, nothing was about actually being happy and enjoying yourself. He’d known there were clubs like this in New York when he’d been alive, hell his family had a strong hold on several of them over hush money to keep the cops out, but he’d never been to one until he got to Hell, never experienced the sheer unadulterated joy of a place like this that oozed sex and openness. Hell might be, well, Hell, but at least there were oases like these dotted around where he didn’t have to care about judgement. </p><p>Didn’t have to care about stupid, pompous deer demons with sticks up their asses who wouldn’t even listen to his side of the story. </p><p>With a small growl of frustration he picked up the fourth shot that he’d asked for and not done yet, throwing it back and taking a deep breath. He needed some sugar if he was going to really enjoy a blissful night of not caring, that would really hit the spot. </p><p>He fluffed up the fur around his chest and put on his winning smile, all teeth with a golden glint. Sashaying over to a crowd of demons he knew would have the goods he wanted without needing to sweet talk Valentino for it he hung off the arm of one for a good half an hour, laughing at his jokes and stroking his ego until the guy benevolently drew him a line in exchange for a bit of hand action under the table. Letting his head loll back in bliss as the dust entered his system he fluffed up his fur once more and hit the game hard. Sure, getting free drugs out of guys in exchange for a hand job was fun and all, but he needed green of a more monetary variety if his shift was going to be worthwhile. He had a quota to hit, after all. </p><p>There were plenty of Johns happy to buy a dance out tonight and the dust still running through him helped him get through a bunch of them without a care in the world. Pulling his skirt back on and touching up his make up a little in the mirror of the champagne room he counted through some of the money and grinned. It wasn’t quite his quota for the night, but it was pretty damn close. He folded the notes back over themselves and slotted them into his purse, returning it to the hidden compartment under one of the seats where he always kept his cash and some spare items to freshen up with during a shift like this. The other dancers knew better than to try and steal from each other and the clients didn’t know about it, so it was a win win for everyone. </p><p>He neatened up some of the glittery eyeshadow over one of his eyes with his finger and tilted his head from side to side to check out the effect. Good enough, he decided, the low lighting caught the glitter at just the right angle and made his eyes look nice and big. Some Johns were real suckers for that big, innocent anime eye look. </p><p>“You free, Spider?” </p><p>Angel looked at Vox, who had just entered the room, through his reflection in the mirror and smiled lazily, turning and folding his arms as he eyed the TV demon up and down. </p><p>“Depends if ya payin’ or not, Circuits,” he drawled. Val had a nasty habit of never charging his boyfriend for anything when they were together in their volatile relationship and Angel had found the electrically charged demon could really eat into his earning time with these so called freebies he liked to take advantage of. Never sex, or anything even close to foreplay, the guy made his disgust of touching any of Val’s workers quite clear, but he seemed to have a huge hard on for watching and commentating on every single thing like he was voicing over some kind of perverse TV talent show. </p><p>“Guess it’s your lucky day,” Vox told him, peeling a couple of fifties from his wallet and fanning them out in his hand for Angel to see. “Got the green if you got the time.” </p><p>“Well, aint you a gent tonight?” Angel grinned, taking the money and counting through it. “Two songs and whatever over the clothes action ya want, Sugar. Sound fair?”</p><p>Vox didn’t reply, simply seated himself down on the plush seating that ran all the way around the room and spread himself out with his arms draped over the back rest and his legs open. “Get going then.” Something flickered on his screen as he lazily swiped his hand in the air, changing the song that was currently playing low in the background to something completely different. “That’s better,” he grinned, his screen returning to normal and displaying a wide, wolfish smile. </p><p>Angel purred softly in agreement, taking a second or two to feel the music before he started to dance and letting the beat flow through him. This was the stuff. He could completely forget about whoever it was sitting in the room with him once he got a rhythm going, just enjoying the pulse of the music in his body as he flowed with the music. </p><p>“So do what you want, what you want with my body. Do what you want, don't stop, let's party,” he sang softly along with the lyrics, edging closer so that he was in between Vox’s spread legs with one set of hands resting on his thighs to push himself up and roll his body against his. As always Vox kept his hands well out of the way, not reaching out or trying to touch him like most other clients usually did when he got this close. They weren’t supposed to, but if they were paying good money none of the dancers would tell them to stop. He supposed, as he gyrated closer and turned so that he was now sitting on Vox’s lap and rubbing against him, that for all his faults at least Vox kept his damn hands to himself. </p><p>“How’re you feeling, babe?” Vox purred, a low static hum covering his words like the buzz of a TV set that was just out of signal. It was the sound that Angel had, after several dances for the demon, finally understood was his way of showing he was turned on even when there was no physical indication. </p><p>“Hot,” Angel replied, looking over his shoulder at him as he peeled his top off, pulling it between the fluff of his cleavage and tossing it to the floor. It was the answer everyone wanted up here when they asked, after all. “I like dancing for ya.” </p><p>“Liar,” Vox grinned, leaning back. “Don’t stop, though.” </p><p>Angel fought the urge to roll his eyes at the comment and carried on, getting back into the beat once more and standing back up again so that he could dance on the floor instead for a while. He shimmied out of his skirt and hooked his thumb under the elastic of his thong, snapping it against his skin as he thrust his hips forward suggestively. He rolled onto his back and stroked down the length of his body, arching so that Vox could see all of him and licking around his lips. </p><p>“You look good on the floor like that,” Vox hummed, taking his phone out of his jacket pocket and angling it on Angel. Phones weren’t allowed out in here either, but just like with unwanted touching you kept your mouth shut if the money was good enough. “Smile.” </p><p>Angel did as instructed then rolled onto his front as the low beat of the next song started, running his fingers through his hair and kneeling up to stroke over his thighs with his lower hands. </p><p>“How’s work going?” Vox asked, slipping his phone back into his pocket and spreading his arms out once more. He clicked his fingers and pointed between his legs again, indicating Angel should come closer once more. The spider crawled along the floor towards him and settled between them, kneeling up and playing with the other demon’s tie. </p><p>“Can’t complain,” Angel replied, running the fabric through his fingers. “Ya know I love comin’ to work.” </p><p>“I don’t doubt it,” Vox replied with a smirk. “That last flick of yours sure was popular. You like my writing? I don’t know why people claim it’s so hard. Once you get going the words just… flow out of you.” </p><p>“Yeah, not sure everybody appreciated it, though,” Angel snorted, lowering his gaze and wishing he could take it back, the comment slipping out before he had a chance to stop himself. </p><p>“You think so?” Vox laughed. “Well, everyone is a critic, Mon Ange.” </p><p>“I guess so,” Angel shrugged, wishing Vox would give up on the talking and just watch him dance. He just had the rest of this new song to get through and then he could book it out of here and get another, less talkative, client to pump some cash out of. “Can’t please ‘em all.” </p><p>“Or is it <em>Cervo Mio</em>?” Vox mused, ignoring Angel’s reply as he tapped his chin thoughtfully. “I only really got Japanese and English going for me, so I admit your fancy ass European romance languages don’t really compute in the old circuits.” </p><p>Angel halted in his dancing, mid bodywave with his chest pushed up against the demon as his words hit home. He rocked backwards, landing so he was sitting back on his heels before pulling himself up to standing and looking down on the infuriatingly calm TV demon opposite him. “The fuck are you talking about?” He hissed, his voice so low that it was nearly drowned out by the heavy bass of the music. Vox snapped his fingers and cut off the sound, leaving them both in an eerily quiet room. With another wave he brought the lights up painfully full, making Angel squint at the sudden harshness. </p><p>“The script…” he said slowly, two and two very slowly but surely clicking together. “The stuff ya wrote.” It hit him like a tonne of bricks, almost painful in the sudden realisation. “Alastor wasn’t mad about the movie, he was mad about the words in it…” </p><p>“Aww, did Spooder Baby make Deer Daddy mad?” Vox snarked, laughing with an accompanied TV audience track thundering over the speakers in the room all around them. “Fucking sucks when your boyfriend betrays you doesn’t it?” </p><p>“I didn’t!” Angel whispered, shaking as he put his hands over his ears to drown out the still echoing sounds of laughter as he sank to the ground. “I didn’t tell nobody what we said to each other!” </p><p>“It’s like I told you, baby, nothing’s ever truly gone online.” Vox stood up and straightened his suit. “I don’t think I need the rest of the song,” he commented, taking out his wallet and tossing a few more notes on the floor in front of Angel. “Have a tip though, this was better than reality TV. Smile, Mon Ange, you aint never full dressed without one.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>My head canon is that Vox is Japanese seen as he's so tech savvy and on the pulse with everything new, so I figured it made sense that if he wasn't American he'd be from one of the tech capitals like China or Japan. The idea that he loves game shows and heavy advertising made me think of the OTT style they have on Japanese TV and my head canon of him being a failed game show host from Tokyo just stuck. My next story after this will likely be a Vox origin story if people would be interested? </p><p>Also the song Angel is dancing to is inspired by an AngelxVal cover that ParanoidDJ has done on youtube of "Do what you want with my body" that I urge you to check out. You should also hear their in character version of "911" but be warned it is very heavy and features references to overdoses. Their comic dubs are my head canon for Val's voice. </p><p>Credit to ddd1992 for the spooder baby line. It had me laughing out loud when I read it in their review of last chapter and it just hit as something Val or Vox would say.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Le Denouement</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Alastor and Angel add a very important word to their collective vocabulary: Communication</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Wow, two chapters in two days? I'm spoiling y'all!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Angel finally picked himself up from the floor as the last beats of the song fell away over the speakers. Shakily, he reached out his hand and picked up the notes Vox had dropped at his feet before leaving. $200. That, plus what the demon had already paid for his dance, more than put him over his quota for the night. Lifting up the seat where his stash was hidden he added the notes to his purse and checked his phone. He still had two hours left of his shift to finish before he could go back to the hotel. Two hours to work out what the hell he was going to say to Alastor now he knew the score.</p>
<p>“Vox… you bastard,” he breathed to himself, clicking his phone back onto the lock screen and putting it back under the seat with the money. He could feel himself shaking still, his whole body tense with nerves as he collected his clothes and dressed once more. Straightening out the neckline of his top he left the champagne room and made his way back to the main floor, waving at a regular and beckoning him over. He couldn’t see Vox anywhere, or Val either, he noted as his eyes scanned the dance floor and the booths edging the club. That was probably better, he reasoned with a smile, he wasn’t sure he could deal with the duo without punching one of them right now. </p>
<p>He put his arms around the demon he’d called over and started to laugh at whatever it was he was saying, dancing close with him until the inevitable invite upstairs for ‘privacy’. He didn’t need the money, he could turn him down, but he needed the distraction and the demon he was with wasn’t the worst offer he had available to him so he took it. The rest of the shift passed in a room upstairs, Angel managing to draw the time out as long as possible with pillow talk and a whole boyfriend experience that left him with a sizable tip. </p>
<p>Collecting his stuff on the way out he went past Val’s office and peeped through the door, relieved when he found it empty. Digging the money out of his purse he shoved it in one of the envelopes that Val always had handy on his desk and scribbled his name on it, dropping it back in the drawer and firing off a text to tell him where the cash was and that he’d see him tomorrow. He didn’t need to even check his schedule to know that he was going to be working, the only thing that ever changed was the time he needed to arrive for. Days off were a blessing to be earned and ever since joining the hotel they had been few and far between. </p>
<p>For a change it was warm as he walked the streets back to the hotel. The fur coat Alastor had given him was still sitting in his closet back at the hotel but even though he didn’t need it he wished he had it one for a bit of confidence, a layer against the world. </p>
<p>When he crossed the threshold of the hotel part of him wanted to just run up the stairs and burst into Alastor’s room, but the other side of him just wanted to slink into the shadows to hide away and save the problems for another day. It was late, he reasoned, Alastor would probably be asleep or something. Even as the thought hit him he knew it was dumb, the demon never slept that he knew of and even if he did then… then what? Angel would just wake him up? </p>
<p>Biting down on his bottom lip and screwing his eyes shut he rapped his fist sharply on Alastor’s door, hard and fast before he had a chance to talk himself out of it. </p>
<p>“Enter.” Alastor’s voice floated through the door, low and calm, completely at odds with how Angel Dust felt right now. Mustering up all the confidence he could, Angel pushed open the door as bid and stepped in, blinking in the low light until his eyes adjusted. </p>
<p>“Heh… you burning candles or somethin’?” He asked, laughing to ease the tension as he noted the heavy scent of lavender in the air. “Hope I’m not… interruptin’.” </p>
<p>“I’m just cleansing the environment,” Alastor replied, not looking up from his cross legged position on the floor.  “Believe me, if it was not safe for you to enter then you would not have been able to.” </p>
<p>“Why are ya cleansin’ it?” Angel asked curiously, closing the door and edging around the circle Alastor seemed to have created, nervous of touching anything he shouldn’t and being cursed for all eternity. </p>
<p>“It’s just good practice to once someone has dealt with unpleasant things,” the demon explained, eyes opening a crack as he turned slightly to observe Angel Dust. “What do you want?” </p>
<p>“To say sorry.” </p>
<p>“And so the record begins to play again,” Alastor replied, extinguishing the candles with a small flick of his wrist and plunging them into darkness for a brief moment before a shadowy tentacle hit the light switch by the door. </p>
<p>“You’re being a real dick, ya know that right?” Angel snapped, unable to contain himself for much longer. “Ya going to let me actually talk or should I just fuck off like I have every other time I’ve tried to do this dance with ya?”</p>
<p>“You sound like Husker,” Alastor hummed, standing up and starting to collect the white candles, carefully lining them up in his hand and returning them to their box on the shelf. “I believe he has called me a child no less than twenty times this past week.” </p>
<p>“I know why you’re mad…” Angel said softly, rubbing his forearm and shuffling on the spot, wishing he could sit down somewhere but not knowing what Alastor’s strange rules on etiquette were when it came to sitting down uninvited in his domain. He glanced at the chair by the desk, hoping to catch the deer’s eye for some unspoken permission to sit but coming up disappointed when the demon seemed determined to avoid all eye contact as he kept himself busy by the bookcase, brushing imaginary lint from the shelves. </p>
<p>“Ya think that… ya think that I told people shit about us… don’t ya?” Angel asked, taking the stiffening of Alastor’s shoulders as confirmation of what Vox had all but told him was the problem. “I’m right, aint I?” he pushed, walking across the dusty outline of the circle drawn on Alastor’s hardwood floor and reaching out to gently rest his hand on his arm. </p>
<p>“You… are not wrong, yes,” Alastor replied tensely, shrugging his arm a fraction to tell Angel to remove his hand from him. “I fail to see how things otherwise ended in Vox’s… work.” </p>
<p>“I don’t know!” Angel growled in exasperation, doing the opposite of what Alastor wanted and actually taking hold of him with one of his other hands as well so that he could forcibly turn the demon around to face him, still gripping him with a tight hold as the deer glared up at him. “…heh, never noticed the height difference until now,” he commented, letting go and taking a small step back with his hands raised in a gesture of peace, a promise that he wouldn’t do that again. “Look, sorry, I just needed ya to look at me. Honest, I’m tellin’ the truth!” </p>
<p>“How do I know that?” Alastor replied, static raising over his words and crackling in the air. </p>
<p>“Do some of your voodoo shit on me, I dunno!” Angel gestured to the shelves behind them. “There’s gotta be a candle or a dead frog or somethin’ that does truth spells. Put a beetle on my tongue or somethin’, I don’t care, anything that would make you believe me.” </p>
<p>“Truth spells rarely have the desired effect, Mon Ange,” Alastor told him softly, a genuine smile starting to tug at the corners of his manic grin at the spider’s words. Beetles indeed… what were they teaching young demons, these days? “They usually just make the victim babble about whatever they are most worried about people finding out which is rarely the thing one wants to know.” </p>
<p>“I don’t care,” Angel insisted, all but reaching out for the box on the shelf, ready to throw whatever the demon in front of him asked for in order to prove what he was saying. “What will it take?” </p>
<p>“Say I did believe you,” Alastor said slowly, easing past him and moving to his desk, leaning against the edge of it and looking Angel up and down, trying to read what his body was telling him. “By the way, please take your foot out of that circle before you hurt yourself.” </p>
<p>“Why? You said it was a cleansin’ thing!” Angel sprang to the side, putting a distance between himself and the chalk ring, looking panicked until he heard a laughter track playing across the room coming from the radio demon. </p>
<p>“Sorry, that was a poor joke, I apologise,” Alastor stifled another laugh, the track dying out to a soft chuckle as Angel glared at him. “As I was saying, say I do believe you. Then what? How else do you explain it?” </p>
<p>“If I knew that d’ya really think I’d be standin’ here?” Angel sighed. “If I knew who blabbed I’d be half way across the city to take their lights out. Someone must have been, I dunno, stalkin’ us.” </p>
<p>“Then it appears we are at a stalemate,” Alastor hummed. “You say you didn’t speak to anyone about things we discussed, then what are the common factors? I watched your little presentation and there were sentiments from several of our outings mentioned in it. Do you mean to say whoever was listening to us was present at every meeting we had? Even ones within this hotel? I find that hard to believe. If someone was listening in on us with eldritch means the protections I have around this hotel would have detected it. Nothing gets past my shadow, I promise you that.” </p>
<p>“Ya watched it?” Angel blushed. “Dang, I’m sorry.” </p>
<p>“Quite alright. The lighting and the bed coverings were very well chosen and a pleasant distraction from the energetic visuals.” </p>
<p>“Is that your way of saying you didn’t watch it you just listened to the audio?” </p>
<p>“….yes.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>o0o</p>
<p> </p>
<p> Angel couldn’t think of a time when he’d had a bust up with a guy that had actually worked itself out but, as he left the office with Alastor several hours later he was nervously hopeful that the deer was starting to trust him again. They hadn’t gotten any closer to working out what was going on, but they were taking some steps and that was the main thing to him. </p>
<p>They settled down at the bar together and Husk looked at them with a raised eyebrow, folding his arms and eyeing the pair critically.</p>
<p>“You two idiots talked it out?” He asked. “Cos I aint hostin’ no couples therapy.” </p>
<p>“Why Husker, my good fellow, a therapist and a bar tender are basically the same thing, are they not?” Alastor asked jovially. </p>
<p>“Yeah, just one drinks on the job more!” Angel quipped, causing a rush of static laughter to erupt from his partner next to him. </p>
<p>"Whatever," Husk rolled his eyes and started to sort through some glasses beneath the bar. “Want the usual? Whisky and some sort of fruity ass pink drink?” </p>
<p>“Mm, I’m feelin’ all red today,” Angel purred with a sideways glance at Alastor, eliciting one of those quaint little blushes to erupt over the demons cheeks just how he liked it. “Gimme somethin’ with strawberry in it.” </p>
<p>“Stop having eye sex at my bar,” Husk sighed, but set to it anyway, crafting a daiquiri with a healthy dose of strawberries to bring out the bright colour that Angel had asked for. The spider demon trilled happily and took a sip from the straw, grinning at the sweet taste. Heavy on the sugar and rum, light on the lime, just how he liked it. </p>
<p>“Thank ya, Husky baby,” he winked, taking out his phone and angling it for the perfect shot of the drink, next picking it up and clicking a quick selfie of him posing with it to post to his Voxtagram. </p>
<p>“Dunno why you kids all have to live with your phone glued to you,” Husk sighed, starting to drop some ice into a glass for Alastor’s scotch. “They’re just basically portable listening devices. Wouldn’t catch me carrying around one of those robotic piece of junk all the time.” </p>
<p>He just had time to duck as the lightbulb hanging over the bar shattered.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>My search history looks so bizarre now with me looking up candle magic for Alastor. He has to get those shadows from somewhere, damn it! I am mixing a bunch of Wicca candle magic, hoodoo and voodoo together for him. Enjoy his patchwork of lighting things on fire and seeing if they stick. </p>
<p>Also, Husk is the MVP with his old person technophobia.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Unlucky for some</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The wheels are in motion, the game is afoot and the spider is dressed like an extra from Grand theft auto</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for all the love and encouragement on this so far, everybody! It means the world when regulars and new people alike comment with excitement over what's happening. Enjoy the build up and theatrics here before we launch into the battle for Angel Dust</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Geez, Al, ya couldn’t have had your lightbulb moment without blowing out the damn electrics?” Angel snapped, brushing shards of hot glass out of his fur and pushing his ruined drink out of the way. Husk had fared slightly worse and was currently ducked underneath the bar hissing softly as his wings shielded him from most of the damage. “Simmer down, kitty, it’s alright now.” </p>
<p>Husk peered out from under his wings with a scowl and stubbornly folded his arms, his fur puffed up at least twice the size from the shock. The glare on his face stopped Angel saying what he really wanted to and the spider politely hid his snicker behind his hand. </p>
<p>“Sorry,” Alastor apologised, though he didn’t sound like he meant it in the slightest. Reaching out for Angel’s phone he took the device from the demon and turned it over in his hands. “I have no idea how these devices work, but that shouldn’t prevent me from rendering it ineffective.” With considerable force he slammed his hand holding the phone down on the bar top, his mouth dropping open in surprise when the device not only stayed intact but didn’t seem to have even the slightest scratch on it. </p>
<p>“Wow, VOGITEK really did well,” Angel pointed out, impressed despite it all as he took the phone from Alastor and looked at it. The plastic casing looked as good as new and the screen shone as bright as ever when he clicked it on. </p>
<p>“Drop it in the sink,” Husk suggested. “That’s how you did your old one in, right?” </p>
<p>“Uh…” Angel looked a little bit ashamed and scratched the back of his head, chucking self-consciously. “I don’t think that will work either.” </p>
<p>“Oh?” </p>
<p>“Well, ya see, I was foolin’ around in the bathtub the other week,” Angel admitted. “Takin’ photos and stuff and I sorta dropped it and couldn’t find it right away so it was under for a pretty good time and when I did get it out it was right as rain. These new VOGITEKs are tough cookies.” </p>
<p>“Why on earth were you taking photos whilst you were bathing?” Alastor asked incredulously, the light over the bar that hadn’t been destroyed by his earlier revelation flickering ominously. </p>
<p>“Oh, honey, they really broke the mould when they made you didn’t they?” Angel giggled. “Look, we’ll deal with gaps in your knowledge later, fact is how are we gonna break this thing?” </p>
<p>Alastor tapped his chin thoughtfully for a moment or two, staring intently at the device. With a small sigh of resignation he spread his hands and once more took the phone from Angel and placed it flat on the bar. </p>
<p>“This isn’t how I like to use my magic,” he sighed. “But needs must. Please stand back.” </p>
<p>“Why, what are ya-“</p>
<p>“Kid, trust him.” Husk ducked back behind the bar and Angel took a good few steps back, trusting Husk if even he was unnerved by what the radio demon was about to do. He shielded his eyes as a bright red light erupted around Alastor, symbols floating in the air as he cracked his neck to an unnatural degree and forced them towards the phone. The device shuddered on the bar top, red light cracking out of the seams in the panels as it strained against the power surging through it. Angel was about to ask what was meant to happen when the whole phone exploded on the spot, sending circuits and bits of plastic firing off until they disappeared in a burst of eldritch light. </p>
<p>“I… think that might have done it,” Angel said weakly, staring at the small smoking spot on the wood which was all that remained of the phone. </p>
<p>“I don’t know anything about technology,” Alastor repeated. “But I am willing to wager that will have had the desired effect.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>o0o</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Fucking Hell, Vox!” Valentino shrieked, hitting his boyfriend full force in the chest and sending him flying off the bed. “What the fuck have I told you about doing your electo bullshit when I’m balls deep in you?” </p>
<p>“I fucking didn’t!” Vox yelled from the floor, clutching the sides of his screen and groaning. It felt like every wire in his brain had just short circuited at the same time and sent a whole wave through his body which, in effect, it just had. He sat up and swayed slightly on the spot, his screen blank except for a line of symbols firing across it in blood red pixels. “Ow, I think I broke something.” </p>
<p>“Ya fucking think?” Val yelled, clutching himself between the legs. All the colour had drained from his face and he couldn’t even contemplate looking down right now. A small stream of smoke was coming up from the bedsheets and he swore to Satan that if something was… off down there he was going to kick Vox through all nine of the circles of Hell and back again. </p>
<p>Vox smacked the side of his screen a few times and gripped the cables at the back, groping blindly until he found the ones that had blown loose. “Put these back in for me,” he ordered. “I can’t see.” </p>
<p>“Put ‘em back in yourself you malfunctioning piece of trash,” Val hissed, grabbing a packet of cigarettes from the bedside and storming out of the bedroom. </p>
<p>“Asshole!” </p>
<p>“Bargain bin reject!” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>o0o</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So that’s it?” Angel asked, still staring at the burn mark then back at Alastor. “He can’t listen no more?” </p>
<p>“Not unless you have other electronics from him laying around, no, I wouldn’t imagine so,” Alastor told him. </p>
<p>Husk was starting to scrub at the scorch in the wood, cursing them under his breath at ruining the one thing in this hotel that he tried to keep nice. “You two done?” </p>
<p>“Oh, far from it, Husker my friend,” Alastor grinned. “Our technologically advanced friend cannot be allowed to get away with simply his toy being broken.” </p>
<p>“Al…” </p>
<p>“Hush, Mon Ange,” Alastor reassured him, placing his hands on the spider’s shoulders and pressing a very brief, but still affectionate, kiss to his forehead before drawing back. “I will take care of everything. Now, can you follow a few simple instructions?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>o0o</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Val sat sulking on the sofa, puffing angrily on another cigarette as he clumsily poured himself a large measure of vodka. He was just chucking it back when his phone rang, not a number he recognised but he was in such a foul mood that yelling at a cold caller trying to sell him life insurance would really perk him up right about now. </p>
<p>“What?” He snapped as he answered.</p>
<p>“Hi, Daddy!” Angel’s voice trilled out over the speakers. “You are so going to laugh, but I did a super doper silly thing again and dropped my phone in the tub taking pictures for ya. I had to pull a few tricks to borrow this from a very hot pussy cat just to call ya.” </p>
<p>“Baby, Daddy is a bit busy right now so you better have a point,” Val growled, sipping his drink and resting the cold glass back on his crotch. </p>
<p>“See, because I was <em>so</em> clumsy I didn’t get it out of the water in time so it broke and I can’t remember my schedule for the night,” Angel replied, giggling in that vapid way that both annoyed Val and peaked his interest at the same time. “What time do ya want me to swing by the club? I should probably pull a double so I can get some cash to buy a new phone tomorrow.” </p>
<p>“Come in at 8, you can work til closing,” Val told him, knowing he could just pull the schedule up to check it but not really caring right now. The longer Angel was in work, the longer he was making him money after all. “Don’t be late.” </p>
<p>“I won’t, Daddy!” Angel reassured him. “Love you, kisses!” </p>
<p>“Yeah, yeah, kisses,” Val hung up and tossed his phone onto the cushions next to him. “Vox!” he shouted through to the bedroom. “Plug yourself in already we’re going to the club.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>o0o</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ok, so that’s that sorted,” Angel said to Alastor as he hung up. They’d retreated back to the radio demon’s office, the radio demon in question currently leafing through several books as Angel perched on his desk with Husk’s phone resting next to him. </p>
<p>“Excellent show, my dear,” Alastor congratulated him, snapping the book he was holding shut and putting it back onto the shelf. “You arriving at your place of work for 8 o’clock gives us more than enough time.” </p>
<p>“Ya find something useful in your books?” Angel asked hopefully. </p>
<p>“Not at all, my dear,” Alastor said happily. “Magic and technology seldom mix well so they were of absolutely no use in helping me divine an obvious solution to our wired up friend.” </p>
<p>“Well, that don’t sound good,” Angel pointed out, frowning at how happy the deer looked despite it all. </p>
<p>“Quite the opposite, Mon Ange. This is the perfect opportunity for some improvisation and experimentation!” Alastor said excitedly, his grin widening at the prospect and a hellish glow lingering at the corners of his slowly changing eyes. “Why, I haven’t had the chance to stretch my creative muscles in quite some time.” </p>
<p>“Ok, calm down, Bambi,” Angel raised his hands and hopped down from the desk. “Vox is an overlord, I don’t want ya running in there half cocked, and I certainly don’t want to get caught in some magical-digital combo explosion if this all goes to Hell in a hand basket.” </p>
<p>“Do not worry your pretty little head,” Alastor dismissed his concerned with a flamboyant wave of his hand, summoning his microphone as he gestured and leaning on it for balance. “Go and powder your nose ready for your shift and all shall become clear.” </p>
<p>Angel knew he should trust him, Alastor was an overlord as well after all and he obviously hadn’t gotten that powerful down here by not being good at what he did. Still, as he made his way back to his room to get ready he couldn’t quite shake the nagging feeling that this was all just a big mistake. This had gone from Vox being crabby over him sleeping with Val after a drunken night out to Alastor preparing to wage war against and overlord because of a slight against them both. Angel couldn’t wrap his head around how this had seemingly gone from nought to one hundred in a matter of weeks and decided it was probably safer not to think about it too hard. Worrying only meant you suffered twice, his sister used to say. </p>
<p>Alastor hadn’t given him much in the way of instruction, despite asking if he was happy following them. Alastor’s version of giving instructions, it turned out, was to be as vague as possible whilst bobbing up and down like an excited kid in a candy store. If the excited kid was a homicidal killer and the candy store was an all you can kill buffet, that is. Angel had seen bloodlust in Alastor’s eyes before, and heard more than his fair share of it when he turned into the demon’s broadcasts late at night under the covers, but this was a new one entirely. </p>
<p>All the demon had told him was that he should dress in something that would guarantee Vox would take him upstairs for a dance. Usually Angel could figure out the best look to bag any guy in Hell but Vox was a tough one. The only thing he knew for definite that he was interested in was Val and short of changing species there was no way Angel was going to look like him at all, plus he had a firm no polyester animal print rule when it came to his wardrobe so zebra print coats were firmly out. The best he could come up with after multiple outfit changes and several Voogle searches on Husk’s phone for inspiration was something inspired by that gross shoot em up game he saw the TV demon playing all the time at Val’s place. </p>
<p>Critically looking himself up and down in the mirror he fastened in a pair of big hoop earrings and fluffed his fur around the low cut vest top he was wearing alongside bleached denim booty shorts. He looked like the best type of trash and ten out of ten he knew he had the video game hooker look down to a tee. Swiping a line of bright red lipstick on, he pouted at his reflection and wished he had his phone back, this was pure Voxagram thirst posting. He doubted Husk would appreciate him logging in on his phone. </p>
<p>He slipped on a fuzzy pink jacket and went to knock on Alastor’s door, posing in the frame as the demon answered and winking suggestively. </p>
<p>“This what ya had in mind, Sugar?” he asked, batting his heavily lined eyelids at him and kicking up his heel to show the dollar motif decorating his platforms. “Skanky or what?” </p>
<p>“I… yes…” Alastor blinked a few times, taking in the whole picture and gripped his microphone tighter. “That’s… that’s certainly a look.” </p>
<p>“GTA chic comin’ right attcha,” Angel winked, popping some finger guns and cracking up laughing at Alastor’s rapidly conflicted facial expressions. “You gonna do your weird shadow mojo to get me there or what?” </p>
<p>“Yes, of course.” Alastor slashed at the air with his free hand and opened up a literal tear in the atmosphere, black shadows congealing at the edges and looking just as unappetising as Angel remembered it being. “Simply escort him to whatever private rooms you have at your disposal and vamp until I get there.” </p>
<p>“Vamp?” </p>
<p>“Vamp,” Alastor repeated. “Adlib, free form, improvise! My good fellow you work in the entertainment industry, do they teach you nothing?” </p>
<p>“Just say stall for time,” Angel rolled his eyes good naturedly, making his way into the shadowy mess. “Ya don’t need your fancy pants theatre lingo.” </p>
<p>Shuddering at the cold, cloying sensation as he walked through the portal Angel wrapped his arms around himself and shook the sensation away as soon as he was on solid ground. Alastor had materialised him right in his dressing room which threw him off balance at first as he’d been expecting to end up outside. He dumped his coat and gave himself a quick pep talk in the mirror, spritzing on some perfume for good measure. He slipped on a bit of extra gold bling from his dressing table before heading out into the corridor to go down to the club. Against his usual instincts he scanned the room for Val, finding him sitting at the table with Vox right as planned. For a change the TV demon wasn’t draped over his lap. In fact, they both looked pretty pissed off which each other if Angel didn’t know any better. </p>
<p>“Hey, boys,” he purred, sashaying over and perching on the edge of the table, stretching out one leg and flexing his ankle to show off his shoes. “Room for a small one?” </p>
<p>“Not in the mood, bimbo,” Vox muttered, nursing his drink and glaring at Angel. The last thing he wanted was the puffed up spider dragging his boyfriend’s attention away when Val was already mad at him for something that wasn’t even his fault. He’d gotten all his cables in, no thanks to Val, using the mirror in Val’s bedroom to try and muddle his way through finding the right sockets. Things still felt twitchy and every so often the pixels in the corner of his screen were dancing in a strange rainbow of colours. He’d have to take his whole hard drive apart when he got the chance and debug it, but Val had been dead set on coming to the club after their little sexual misadventure so he had to put up with the botch job he’d managed in the mirror. </p>
<p>“Aw, don’t be like that, Circuits,” Angel cooed, straightening up and leaning over so that he could stroke his fingertips down the glitchy side of Vox’s screen. “Want me to make you feel better? Daddy looks like he wants some alone time. What d’ya say me and you book it to somewhere more… comfortable?” </p>
<p>Vox hestitated, looking over at Val and getting zero in response then back at Angel. As much as he was pained to admit it, the spider demon looked ravishing as Hell, dolled up like every gamer boy’s wet dream. Breaking his own ‘no touching the whores’ rule he let his hand run over Angel’s denim clad ass and gripped him firmly, pulling him away from the table and making him nearly stumble into his lap. </p>
<p>“Yeah, you know what? That does sound like a good idea,” he said slowly. “Hey, Val, lend us a few bucks. I’m taking your best gal upstairs.” </p>
<p>“Pay for it yourself,” Val rolled his eyes, already focused on a female fox demon dancing on the stage. His eyes lit up hungrily as he leaned forward in his seat and practically salivated over the dancer. “Just go if you’re going, I’m going to look for some real company.” With that said he got up from his seat to make his way closer to the stage, already fishing out some bills from his coat to slip the fox demon. </p>
<p>“Come on, babe,” Angel whispered. “Let’s make you feel all wanted.” With a practiced ease he lifted himself up from Vox, smoothing his hands down his jacket as he did so and arching his body against him, giving him a small peek of the show he was about to get. He took him by the hand and led him across the dance floor towards the stairs that lead to the champagne room, glancing over his shoulder and smiling coyly. </p>
<p>“Ya know… Val don’t need to know what goes on in here…” he told him quietly, stroking his screen once more and pushing the door open to the room. “I can be real good to ya, Mista Vox.” </p>
<p>“Oh yeah?” Vox closed the door behind them, clicking on the lock and striding towards Angel. He gripped his arm and twisted it towards him, pulling the spider painfully against him. “You gonna make it up to me for always putting your feelers on <em>my</em> guy? You think I fucked stuff up for you with your little deer daddy but if you keep it up remember I can make it a whole lot harder for you.” </p>
<p>“I totally get it, Mista Vox, Sir,” Angel nodded, glancing sideways as a shadow flickered across the wall. “I don’t want no trouble with ya, honest.” </p>
<p>“Good.” Vox released his hold on him and seated himself comfortably on the sofa, bathed in the light from the overheads and casting a low glow with his screen. “Now… convince me.”</p>
<p>“With pleasure.” Angel flicked on some music and started to sway in time to the beat. “<em>When you came in, the air went out… and every shadow… filled up with doubt</em>”</p>
<p>He turned around slowly, bending over and casting a long shadow across the floor, stroking down his hips and dropping to the floor to stretch out languidly. “<em>I don’t know who you think you are, but before the night is through… </em>” </p>
<p>The shadows on the floor bubbled and twisted, writing until they grew and started to take shape.</p>
<p>“<em>I wanna do bad things with you.</em>”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So sue me. Alastor is a frickin' drama queen who times his entrance to music. Prove me wrong.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. An electrifying climax</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It all ends with a bang, quite literally.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Here we go guys! Last day of 2020 and the last chapter of never text your ex. Here's to a 2021 filled with healthier, happier times and plenty more Hazbin Hotel fanfiction</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The lights in the room dulled to a low, neon blue glow as Vox leapt up from the sofa, fists raised and crackling with electricity. </p>
<p>“Seriously?” He hissed, the bulbs fizzing and popping around him as he slowly walked closer to the radio demon. A sneer lit up on his screen, pixelated teeth glinting against the flickering light in the room. “This is your plan?” He barked out a laugh, cracking his knuckles and sending sparks of brilliant white shooting up along his arms in readiness. “Confronting me in a goddamn strip club? Really classy, old timer.” </p>
<p>“Astounding that you should know the meaning of the word,” Alastor smiled benevolently, twirling his microphone staff in his hand and summoning up waves of shadow to match the chattering static buzzing around Vox. The thick, inky black creatures curled around their master’s feet, crawling around the floor waiting for his command as they fought to seep into every available space devoid of light in the room. </p>
<p>“Leave. Now.” Vox stood his ground, refusing to be unnerved by the entities creeping closer to him, threatening to ensnare him with just a word. “This is between me, and that fluffy slut over there.” </p>
<p>“Angel, please leave us to continue this discussion in private,” Alastor asked him, eyes still locked on the TV demon. “You have no cause to be involved in this.” </p>
<p>“No!” Vox shot his arm out to towards the door, sending a volt of pure electricity towards the steel handle of the door and melting it to a dripping, useless lump. The lock melted shut in seconds, trapping the three occupants in the room. </p>
<p>“Oh, marvellous,” Alastor congratulated him. “That is a very impressive trick.” </p>
<p>“Physics, bitch,” Vox snarled, aiming his still sparking fist towards Alastor and firing another arc in his direction. The deer twirled his staff and batted it away as if it was no more than an irritating leaf caught in his path in a breeze. Tentacles of shadow grew taller beside him, firing forward towards Vox with a snap of Alastor’s fingers. </p>
<p>Vox dodged this way and that, summoning the wires right out of the walls to rip away from the plaster and wrestle with the eldritch abominations that were trying to get a grip on him. </p>
<p>“Fascinating, and here I thought you digital folk preferred everything wireless,” Alastor grinned, having the time of his life as he gave strength to his shadow creatures, pulling more from the shadows cast by the fallen rubble from the shattered wall. </p>
<p>A thick cable wrapped around his arm, sending a shock through his body that thrust him down to his knees in a spasm. Nails that were rapidly extending out into blood red claws sliced through the rubber and copper as Alastor let out an inhuman growl, lunging at Vox with a furious cry. </p>
<p>Vox sent another burst of electric to block his path, fighting his way out of the tight grip of one of the shadows. His screen had a crack down the centre of it from one of Alastor’s earlier blows, cutting his smile into two mismatched halves that flickered between expressions as he panted. </p>
<p>“I can do this all day, Alastor,” he grinned, his breath heavy with adrenaline. “You might have been the all-powerful when you got down here, but you can’t fight progress.” He sent more cables towards Alastor, lashing around his arms and lifting him from the floor to bring him up to eye level. </p>
<p>“What even are you?” He scoffed, red gleaming in his eyes as he clenched his fists and wrapped the cables tighter, sending them creeping up towards his throat to drag the radio demon’s head back. “A washed up has-been who caught feelings for a junkie prostitute.” Static from his set mixed with the growing radio frequency from Alastor, filling the room with an ear splitting whine. </p>
<p>“After all, how does the song go? Video killed the radio s-“ </p>
<p>A crash of splintering glass filled the room as Vox broke off, his hands flying up to his face where a perfect, bullet sized hole marred the centre of his screen. A glittering, dollar embossed stiletto tumbled to the floor, falling into the mass of cables and shadows writhing there. </p>
<p>“Hey, Voxxy? Anyone ever tell ya too much screen time was bad for ya?” Angel cackled, holding up his other shoe and preparing to launch it right into Vox’s screen again. </p>
<p>“You filthy little whore!” Vox screeched, making the fatal error of taking his attention off of Alastor for just a fraction too long as he prepared to find out just how electro-conductive spiders were. </p>
<p>“I don’t believe our dance was over,” Alastor grinned, seizing the opportunity to swipe his arms free from his bonds as Vox’s focus was diverted and turning the tables by gripping hold of the other once more with his shadowy appendages. “Terribly bad form to allow another to cut in, our song hasn’t even finished yet.” </p>
<p>Fanning his arms out wide, symbols erupted in red in the air around him, glowing brightly as his shadows moved to mimic him, tearing at Vox with the sickening sound of popping sockets and melting wires. </p>
<p>The creature howled in pain, errors flashing over his broken screen and smoke rising from the ruptured joints of his limbs where they had split or come completely apart. Alastor banished his shadows in a snap, letting the sparking collection of wires and circuitry that just about passed for a human shape hit the ground. </p>
<p>“Yz-Yx-You won’t win,” Vox hissed, his screen still a mass of code and blank patches but still with what could almost be called a mouth still pixelating in waves across the bottom of his screen. “Vx-Vz-Valentino’s gonna… gz-gx-gonna end you… both…” </p>
<p>“How is he still living?” Angel asked, gripping his stiletto still like a weapon ready to throw if he had to. He took a nervous step towards the heap of a body and jumped back as a sparking hand tried to snatch a hold of him. </p>
<p>“Ah, ah, concede nicely please,” Alastor chided, slamming the end of his staff down on the palm of his opponent’s hand and smirking in unadulterated delight as Vox let out another static laced howl of pain. “In answer to your question, Mon Ange, unfortunately only an angel’s blade can completely end the life of a demon.” He chuckled lighting, twisting his staff in Vox’s hand to cox out another one of those delicious sounds of pain. “You should count yourself lucky, Sir, that we are all sinners here and cannot truly send you from this damned place.” </p>
<p>“When I gz-gx-get back u-up you’ll be sz-sx-sorry,” Vox stammered, trying and failing to bring up his other arm to free himself from Alastor’s hold. The limb dangled uselessly next to him, a few frayed wires the only thing holding it to him still. </p>
<p>“Yes, I imagine I will,” Alastor hummed in agreement, wrenching his staff from its seat in Vox’s hand and banishing it. He reached down and pulled the sparking hand free from where it joined Vox’s wrist, inspecting the colourful wires bleeding out of the joint where a bone should be. “But I rather imagine that piecing you together again would take someone as clever as, well, you, and seen as you are rather indisposed right now I really feel very little apprehension about us having a second little scuffle any time in the near future.” With a theatrical flick of his wrist he took a pocket watch out of his coat and clicked it open. “I’d stay and offer to help but, really, what use is an old timer like me when it comes to such wonderful modern technology. Angel and I really should be going now anyway. No, no, friend, don’t get up. We’ll see ourselves out.” </p>
<p>Aiming his hand at the door, he blew it from its hinges- melted lock and all- and offered his arm to Angel. </p>
<p>“Shall we, my dear?” He asked. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>o0o</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That was… I don’t know what that was, but it sure was somethin’,” Angel breathed as they walked down the staircase. </p>
<p>Alastor was still holding the broken up metal hand and nursing it like some kind of perverse trophy. Not being able to feel the ripping of flesh between his claws and shadows was a strangely unfulfilling experience he found now that the adrenaline of the fight had worn off. You couldn’t even eat it. </p>
<p>“Yes, it certainly was,” Alastor agreed. “I am sure he will find a way to piece himself back together, but as I said I doubt that will be anytime soon and he is unlikely to wish to receive another thrashing should he come near you again.”</p>
<p>“Ya sound awfully sure of yourself,” Angel grinned, pausing as his hand rested on the door to the main club. “Sure hope you’re right.” </p>
<p>Alastor reached out and took his hand, turning him to face him and clasping his hand tightly. “Mon Ange, trust me, nobody is ever going to hurt any part of you again whilst I am around.” His eyes took on that intense, red glow once more and Angel found himself lost in the blood red colour of them. </p>
<p>“I…” his heart caught in his chest. This would usually be the part of the movie where the heroine passionately kissed the knight in shining armour, riding off into the sunset on his horse or something lame like that. His hand lingered in Alastor’s for a moment or two, he hoped he was conveying everything he was feeling because he sure as hell couldn’t find the words or the actions right now. He guessed the sexy heroine melting into the shadows with the voodoo casting demon was just as good an ending as any and he prepared himself for Alastor opening another portal to take them back to the hotel. </p>
<p>Only, nothing happened. </p>
<p>Alastor let go of his hand and, much to Angel’s surprise, opened up the door that lead back into the main floor or the club and strode confidently inside. Angel swallowed his shock quick enough to scurry after him and watched in just as much frightened trepidation as everyone else in the club was as the demon made his way over to the edge of the stage where Valentino sat. </p>
<p>He tapped the moth on the shoulder with Vox’s severed hand and dropped it into the demon’s lap, smiling pleasantly as he watched the cogs turn and Valentino piece together the implications of it. </p>
<p>“I’m not sure what the cover charge on your private suites are,” Alastor told him with a smile. “But I do hope it covers the mess I made. I once heard that if a device breaks, putting them in rice should revive them.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Or perhaps that’s just if they get wet.” </p>
<p>“What did you…” Val stared down at the twisted hunk of metal on his lap, fists clenched in anger. </p>
<p>“Nothing that can’t be fixed with a little bit of good old fashioned effort,” Alastor told him. “By the way, I just wanted to let you know what Angel Dust is taking the rest of the week off. He’ll be back in next Monday and when he is, I shall be accompanying him to discuss his new work schedule.” He tilted his head, bones cracking and radio dials twisting across his eyes. “I trust you have no objections?” He clapped his hands together smartly, the sound echoing across the suddenly quiet venue. “Excellent. Enjoy the rest of your evening, everybody. Don’t stop on my account.” </p>
<p>With that said he turned on his heel, humming merrily as he took a very stunned Angel Dust by the arm and lead him through the crowd of demons that obligingly parted for them as they passed. </p>
<p>Once they were out in the street Angel turned to face him, an expression nothing short of awe filled on his face. “Geez, Al. Way to flex.” </p>
<p>“Oh, please,” Alastor rolled his eyes with a chuckle. “You make it sound so juvenile. Come along, there is a charming little jazz venue where we can spend the remainder of our evening. Unless, of course, you wish to return to the hotel?” </p>
<p>“No, a jazz joint sounds good,” Angel nodded. He was still reeling from the whole event, not having a clue what Alastor had meant when he said he was going to talk about his working arrangement with Val and what the implications of that were. That was a problem for future-Angel to worry about, he told himself as he linked arms with his partner. </p>
<p>“By the way, Cervo Mio, you owe me a new phone.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope you all enjoyed the wild ride that was my first full Radiodust fic. I shall be returning in the new year with a Vox origin story and hopefully more Radiodust! As always, with a heavy dose of whump, humour and demons.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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